


The Dragon's Queen

by prettylittlepetticoats



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, King Aegon VI Targaryen, Love, POV Sansa Stark, Power Dynamics, Romance, Romantic Soulmates, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:53:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23882596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettylittlepetticoats/pseuds/prettylittlepetticoats
Summary: Aegon Targaryen comes to the Eyrie to unite the 6 kingdoms, there he finds Sansa Stark, a girl with eyes he could drown in.
Relationships: Sansa Stark/Aegon VI Targaryen, Young Griff/Sansa Stark
Comments: 36
Kudos: 107





	1. Reunite

**Author's Note:**

> helooo. 
> 
> this is an old fic I have rewritten, revamped and so am uploading here.  
> I have four chapters pre-written/edited and will reupload them periodically whilst I work on the fifth. 
> 
> pls enjoy and let me know if you do!
> 
> songrecs: jenny of oldstones - ramin djawadi ost

He had smuggled her away, saved her from a fate worse than death. He had protected, risked his life for her (or so he claimed), he had ensured safety and kept her hidden away from the dangers of the world, like a little bird locked in a gilded cage. He had kept her safe, done everything he could to please her, and yet she knew it wasn’t out of the kindness of his own heart, it wasn’t because of his connection with her family or his love for her Mother. No, it was due to other motives, dangerous motives, motives pushed by ambition, hated and revenge. He was dangerous, very dangerous and she had to remember that. She reminded herself of that every day, every day since she had fled Kings Landing and come to the Eyrie.

The days turned into weeks, into months, and soon a whole year had passed since they had arrived, since Petyr had taken his place as Regent and Leader of the Vale in all but name. A year since Sansa Stark had disappeared, and Alayne Stone had been born.

_‘Sansa Stark went up the mountain, but Alayne Stone came down…’_

12 months did not seem like such a long time, not in the long rung of things, and yet it felt like a very long time. It felt like Sansa had been here for years, stuck here, in her golden cage, her wings clipped, trapped.

Much had happened since she had arrived, much had changed, and that made it feel longer too. Petry ran the Vale now, without question or opposition, no one dared stand against him, they were loyal to him now, and those who had tried to oppose him initially were long gone now. Robin was under Petyr’s control, kept to his rooms and out of the way, or ‘cared for’ as Petry would claim. He was as much a prisoner as she was, locked away in another cage, given all the treats and stories he wanted but still trapped, like she was. A little bird and a sweet robin locked away, little birds in Petyr’s aviary, trapped from the world. Thankfully Alayne was allowed to emerge more than Robin, at least she could walk around the courtyard and attend meals, unlike Robin, who was practically confined to his rooms, only dragged out of social functions and presentations.

He was a sickly boy, more than he had been and Alayne was pretty sure that was Petyr’s doing. He encouraged her to spend time with her, and though she did feel some affection for the boy she couldn’t stand being around him. He had his shaking fits, temper tantrums, screamed and yelled, tried to treat her like a new Mother. He always tried to sneak into her room to cuddle her at night, but he wet the bed and soon she locked her doors to him. Thankfully, Myranda Royce took over the role of caring for him, and Alayne was left be, though Petyr certainly voiced his displeasure at her locked room.

Alayne couldn’t help but resent Robin for his weakness, though she could not judge him for his status as prisoner, as wasn’t she the same? Still she pretended to love Robin, even if she was around him less. She kissed him, let him sit on her lap, gave him hugs and read him stories. It was more bearable than pretending Petyr was her Father. Having to endure his kisses on her cheeks, his hugs that lasted a little too long, and his hands that seemed to rest just too low on her back. She didn’t flinch as he gazed at her, but smiled as he called her his ‘sweet’. It was all playing pretend, like she used to play pretend as a child, when she had been the damsel princess, and Arya had been the dragon, Bran the strong Knight coming to rescue her.

But no … that was not her life. She was Alayne Stone, not Sansa Stark. She didn't think of Sansa Stark, but when she did she thought of her as another girl, a girl who had become lost in Westeros, lost to never return. She imagined Sansa Stark was dead, that was what many around the Vale assumed. None knew that Sansa Stark was here, with darker hair, and a low birth name, but alive, breathing and walking among them. Alayne didn't like to think of Sansa, it was too confusing, too painful, too hard. She was Alayne now, Sansa Stark was gone, she had to keep reminding herself of that.

_Sansa Stark had come up the mountain, but it was Alayne Stone who would come down…_

And yet it was difficult, so difficult. When the first Winter snows came to the Eyrie, it was so difficult not to think of Winterfell, to think of the snowball fights, the snow angels and the cocoa they would drink shivering in the main hall. It was hard not to think of Arya shoving snow down her dress, of Robb throwing her into a snow drift as she squealed, hard not to think of Jon chasing Bran and Rickon through the snow, the young boys screaming as he caught them. It was hard not to think of home, and only grew harder as the months passed.

When news came that the bastard Jon Snow had taken the North from the Bolton’s, it was so hard not to want to go to him, to claim him as her brother, and seek his protection. It was so hard to forget Sansa Stark, and yet she had too, she had to forget that girl, thinking of her would only cause her pain. There had been a time when the plan had been to reveal Sansa in the future, to take back the North in her name, to marry Harrold Hardyng, and assure the Vale's support….but a different future was ahead of them now, that future was gone, and now Alayne’s future and Sansa’s were both so uncertain.

Petyr liked to keep her unaware of what was happening outside the Vale, and yet he couldn't stop her hearing gossip that spread through the walls like spiders. Apparently, the Dragon Queen had come to Westeros, but not alone, not as many had predicted. No, she had come with her nephew Aegon, apparently saved and smuggled away from Kings Landing as a babe; he certainly looked the part according to most, with purple eyes, silver hair, carrying the recovered Targaryen sword Blackfyre and riding on the back of the dragon Viserion. Apparently, he cut a fierce picture and just once, just once Alayne (or perhaps Sansa), had allowed herself to think of him, to imagine his face, to think of how handsome he must be, how strong. She hated herself for that, wasn’t she passed fantasising about princes? Passed fantasising about being swept up by a handsome man who would love her? She was better than that now, better than thinking like that … and so she only indulged in those thoughts once.

And so, she thought of the other news. Alongside Daenerys and Aegon had come Tyrion serving as Hand, Varys as a spymaster, a large army, and two more dragons, one that Daenerys rode in Drogon and Rhaegar who had yet to claim a rider. She had come to the shores of Dragonstone, taking her families seat back with frightening ease before marching on Kings Landing. It had been a short and bloody victory, with Cersei in the dungeons, Tommen sent to the Citadel and the Kingslayer exiled abroad, Mycrella had been recovered from Dorne and sent to the Silent Sisters. The Throne was theres, in a victory as swift as Aegon the Conquerer’s.

They had soon repaired and subdued the other Kingdoms as well. For the Storm Lands, Gendry, a bastard of Robert’s was legitimised and swore fealty. The Reach bent the knee when Daenerys somehow produced a shaking Margaery Tyrell from the dungeons of the Red Keep (none knew how she survived the explosion at the Sept, but the Reach were thankful). Dorne had always loved her, and the Iron Islands soon bent with Yara Greyjoy as their new Lady, Theon at her side. The Riverlands were removed from Frey hands and returned to the Tully’s, after the liberation of Riverrun and the burning of the Twin’s revealed Edmure as very much alive in Frey custody. The Westerlands bowed with no conquest to their rightful Lord in Tyrion, 5 kingdoms conquered in less than a year and with apparent ease.

Only the North and the Eyrie had been left alone, the North had been next on their list, but things had turned out differently there too. Jon Snow had been crowned as King in the North by his men, before the Targaryen's had shown up in Winterfell demanding his fealty. A short meeting had followed, with Howland Reed attending, and soon fealty had turned to independence for the North and an alliance between the two kingdoms, the reason why had been revealed at Jon’s official coronation. Alayne had near fainted when she heard why Jon was now the uncontested King. Jon apparently was not Eddard Stark’s bastard, but the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark, who had married before her pregnancy. Polygamy was fairly normal for Targaryen’s, making Jon a legitimate Targaryen in the eyes of men. Rhaegar had soon bonded with her bro…now cousin too (Sansa’s cousin she meant), proving to all he was a Targaryen as much as he was Stark. That had been enough for the Southerners to accept him, and the Northmen had been happy he kept the Stark name to sit on the Throne, and so Jon was King in the North, and the Vale was the last Kingdom left.

That had been months ago, and Alayne had been forced to ask her Father … Petyr why they had not been visited by the Targaryen’s yet. Rumour had it they were dealing with a threat Beyond the Wall, but Petyr said nothing more, not until a month later a raven had arrived from the Wall. Apparently, the Others had risen and fallen to the might of the Targaryen’s and their dragons. All was at peace in the North now, Brandon Stark had been found at the Nightfort and Rickon at Skagos. Both her brothers back at Winterfell safe, only Arya remained missing. Alayne had barely reacted when Petyr had told her that news, but at night she had wept, wept for hours. Alayne did not care for the boys, but Sansa? Sansa missed them desperately, missed Bran, Rickon, Jon, she missed them all and longed to be with them. She longed for nothing more than to return to Winterfell, to be reunited with her family, her home. Sansa belonged in the North, in Winterfell, but Alayne belonged in the Vale, by her Father’s side. And so, she remained, Alayne remained, but Sansa, Sansa dreamed of the North.

And so, as she dreamed the rest of the Kingdom had been subdued, the Others defeated, and the Kingdoms rebuilding. Winter was raging now but the Targaryen’s managed. The only puzzle piece left was the Eyrie now, and both Alayne and Sansa knew the dragons would be coming up the mountain next, like Aegon’s original conquest … they would come soon.

‘Mother, can I go flying with the Lady?’ Ronnel Arryn had said to his Mother Sharra when Visenya took the Eyrie by simply flying her dragon to the courtyard. Sansa wished she could fly, fly away from here, and back home.

* * *

Two weeks later and dawn had barely broken over the horizon when her handmaid was shaking her awake. She raised a hand to hide her eyes from the sun and let out a small groan, she had struggled to sleep a wink over the past few weeks, always thinking, wondering, dreaming, dreaming of home and a way away from here. She was tempted to roll back over and fall back asleep, but her handmaids frantic hushed words, ‘They’re here’ had her eyes snapping open, and her sitting up promptly in her bed.

"Your Father bids you dress and meet him Lady Stone, we have visitors from the North, he asks you to meet him to break your fast in the main dining room" Her voice was shaking now as she composed herself to give the message and Alayne dismissed her with a nod of her head. They were here.

Evidently the Targaryen’s had come, they were here. Sansa … Sansa was excited, her mind racing and whirling with thought. Perhaps Jon had finally come? Come to find her and sweep her back home? Perhaps he had heard about Petyr’s bastard daughter, with dark hair that shone light and was red at the roots. Perhaps he had come for her and she would be free of this place? She wished such a thing, but she knew that was not the case, was not the most logical explanation.

And Petyr had always taught her to be logical, think of all scenarios, imagine every possible outcome and determine which is most likely. Determine a persons reasoning, determine what they want and what they plan. So many lessons, lessons of cunning and politics that he had felt she needed to learn. She had never questioned why, she knew.

No, Jon was coming with Daenerys’s and Aegon to get the fealty of the Vale, that was all. Jon and Bran and Rickon likely presumed she was dead, in a shallow grave somewhere after fleeing King’s Landing. They were not coming for her, no. And yet … that did not mean she could not use this to her advantage.

For a year, she had believed this would be her life, to live as Alayne until Petyr saw it fit to reveal her. She had forgotten about Sansa Stark, refused to think of her because of the pain it caused her. She had gotten used to thinking of Sansa Stark as another girl, thinking of herself as Alayne, and it had gotten easier with each passing week but now? Now, she was unsure, Petyr's plans had been thrown into question, and the Targaryen's were coming. Of course, they didn't know who she was, but what if they bought Jon? What if Tyrion was with them? Did Petyr plan to reveal her? What was the plan?! She hated not knowing, the uncertainty and fear having her hands shaking as she hurriedly dressed in a sky-blue gown with the symbol of House Arryn on the back in white, left her hair curled and flowing down her back and pushed her feet into her white slippers. She had to force herself to walk slowly rather than run to the dining room, but she couldn’t stop thinking. What would await her?

Of course, she hoped to see Jon, or even Tyrion; either would know it was her and would take her away, take her back home. Likely she knew if she returned to Winterfell, she'd be married off to a Northern bannerman, or perhaps she was technically still married to Tyrion, either option was better than here, anything was better than here. No, she wasn't mistreated by Petyr… not yet, but she saw the looks he gave her, how he held her a little too close when they hugged, how his lips always brushed too close to her lips when he kissed her cheeks. It was dangerous, and she knew, she knew her time was running out with him, surely, he was bound to act soon, and she wanted to be long gone before that happened; she needed to be gone. Littlefinger was dangerous, so dangerous and both Alayne and Sansa were afraid of him, so afraid she hadn't tried to escape even though she knew she needed to.

Sansa was as safe as she could be in this world now, it was safe to be revealed, she just hoped today would be the day she could become Sansa again. It was hard, so hard … how could she reveal herself if no one she knew came? How did she know she was safe with the Targaryen’s? God if Jon weren’t present would the Targaryen’s even believe her? Would they take her away or roll their eyes and leave her here? All these thoughts raced through her head as she walked down the corridors, pulling a white fur over her shoulders as she went. She hurried to the main hall, catching a glimpse in the mirror along the way. Dark circles were present under her eyes, her skin was pale, and she looked a little too thin. She cursed herself for her appearance then, not that she cared about that now, but she knew Petyr would be unhappy with how she looked.

He showed such displeasure as she met him in the hall, a frown on his features as he raised an eyebrow at her. She ducked her head as she stepped inside and forced a smile as Robin ran forward to meet her, cuddling her close. Thankfully, they weren't alone; Myranda was with them, as were a few servants, and they all sat down to break their fast together. Alayne sat far from her Father, but as breakfast was over, and the others departed to the courtyard he held her back as she tried to follow, and his hand was tight on her wrist, not tight enough to hurt her, but tight enough for her to know she would not be able to shove him off.

"No kiss for your Father this morning my sweet Alayne?" He said, his voice hard, dangerous as he spoke, he was always dangerous, anyone would underestimate him at their own peril.

"I'm sorry Father, I'm tired and out of sorts" She said, her voice gentle as it always had been, but also fear filled… Petyr may not have the fight in him that men who'd beaten Sansa did, but he was much more dangerous in other ways. Idiots like Meryn Trent could smack her across the face, fools like Boros Blunt could rip at her dress but that was all. Men like Petyr … they were far more dangerous. And so, with a little shiver she stepped forward and placed a gentle kiss to his cheek, which seemed to subdue him as he smiled at her.

"It's alright my dear, I know you're scared, but you need not be, the Targaryen's are coming yes, and we will submit to them, but they will take no interest in a bastard girl from the Fingers, why would they? There is nothing for you to fear my sweet" His tone, and implication was clear then, he had no plans to reveal her and as he strode out of the room to the courtyard she felt a pit settle in her stomach, and she nearly vomited up her breakfast, it was a close run thing as she took a few hurried breaths and tried to remain calm.

He didn't plan to reveal her… and yet he planned to submit to the Targaryen’s. That could only mean… he planned for her to be Alayne forever, what else could it mean? He planned for Sansa Stark to disappear forever, for Alayne to fully take her place. She felt sick, and tears bit at her eyes, no, no, no! She could not be Alayne forever, she could not, she would not. She was not Alayne Stone, she was not.

"I am Sansa, I am Sansa" She whimpered to herself, "I am Sansa Stark" And she was, she was! She would not remain here, a bastard girl named Alayne Stone, the illegitimate child of Petyr Baelish. What could Petyr's plans be for her if he didn't reveal her? Likely not something good, and she knew, she knew that today was the day. She would not stay here as Alayne Stone, she would leave as Sansa Stark, she would, she was determined. This time, Sansa Stark would climb the mountain and Sansa Stark would come back down.

"I am Sansa Stark" She said to herself again, shaking as she did so, “I am a Stark” She said nodding to herself, calming, her determination tightening in her veins like steel. “I am a Stark” And with that she hurried out into the courtyard. Today was the day, Sansa Stark would come back, and Alayne Stone would be no more.

* * *

"Is this even necessary?" She rolled her purple eyes at her nephew's cocky tone and shot him a look that suggested he keep his comments to himself. With that look she heard her other nephew burst out in laughter, and then the sounds of both japing back and forth. Gods they could be infuriating, brothers separated their entire life, and now determined to bond as much as humanely possible before one returned North and the other went South. Still, it was better than them not getting along she supposed, though she thought ruefully that sometimes she felt like more of a Mother to them than their Aunt younger than them both. Perhaps it was because girls matured faster than boys? Either way, she rolled her eyes at them both as they japed with one another.

Still, it also filled her with satisfaction, once she had believed herself to be alone in the world, the last of her family, the last Targaryen. Now she had two family members with her, Aegon and Jon (ugh, she still hated that name, but he had agreed to change his last name for her and had refused point blank to change the first). She was not alone, and her family was forging their dynasty once more, the Targaryen dynasty forged anew, promising to be stronger than before. They had subdued most of the continent, and only had one Kingdom left, a Kingdom they were at the base of now, looking up at the magnificent Eyrie.

They had paused outside it for the time being, their dragons resting for a moment. Once they were replenished, they planned on flying up, just as Visenya had done during Aegon's Conquest. The Eyrie may be impregnable against the armies of men, but with three dragons it was defenceless. It would be taken with ease, hence Aegon’s tone deaf comment. He simply wished to send a raven, his focus on repairing the Kingdoms, not going through the formalities of taking the final one. However, Dany knew the importance of seeing their subjects bending the knee.

Their subjects … that was a recently solved dilemma the Targaryen family had faced. Jon was happy as King of the North, was on the lookout for a Queen, and the Northmen were happy with him in place, that was simple, easy, it was the South that had been the problem. Both Dany and Aegon wanted to sit on the Throne, as both had a right to it (though she had begrudgingly acknowledged that Aegon had the somewhat better claim), and both desperately wanted it. Dany felt she had fought for it, and won them Westeros with her dragon's, whilst Aegon had delicately mentioned over dinner one night that she would be unable to produce heirs, and thus the line would end with her. They had tried to reach a compromise and were currently settling on the idea that Aegon would be King (providing he married a suitable woman), Dany would be the Lady of Dragonstone, and acknowledged Queen of Mereen and the Bay of Dragons. She would be Regent if anything happened to Aegon and hold the position of Queen in all but name in terms of running the realm. There was also some discussion of Dany going abroad and liberating the final slavery cities, but that was for the future.

It hurt to give up what she had wanted for so long, and yet she had come to her peace with it. The Targaryen dynasty and name would be restored, her Father's Throne theirs once again, and she would be helping rule it all. She wouldn’t quite be Queen, but her brother’s son would sit atop the Iron Throne, and her brother’s other son would rule the North. It was a good compromise. They just had one fight left, hopefully a short and bloodless fight.

"Because dear nephew, we cannot just send a Raven, we need to make sure they don't put up a fight" Dany retorted with a glare.

Again, the more arrogant of her nephews merely scoffed, "Put up a fight? I'm sure the boy will take one look at the dragons, and collapse on his knees, or perhaps he’ll ask for a ride on one? I’m happy to indulge him if this thing will be finished by supper”  
It took more diligence this time not to roll her eyes at him again, though she was sorely tempted, "The boy Robin Arryn isn't our worry dear nephew, Baelish is, isn't that correct Vary's?" She said, turning to the spymaster, whom she had come to trust a great deal, since learning he was responsible for the fact both she and Aegon were still breathing.

"Correct your grace" He said with a nod, "If Littlefinger bends the knee, he will do so insincerely, it's best you deal with such a delicate matter in person, to ensure his loyalty, or remove him if need be, you do not want to risk his scheming delaying your return to the Capitol"

She nodded then, and gave Aegon a look that screamed, 'I told you so' to which he rolled his eyes. Jon simply laughed before holding his hands up in defeat, as the nearest tent opened and Tyrion strode out, followed by Greyworm.

Ahh Tyrion, the most trusted advisor to the three Targaryen's. He had been crucial to their taking of Westeros, not only had he easily subdued the richest kingdom in the Westerlands, but he was their advisor on matters of the Country itself; the culture, it's people, it's geography. He gave them some legitimacy in having been born on the land, and when Dany had agreed to the compromise of Aegon taking the Throne, she had insisted Tyrion remain as Hand, something Aegon had immediately agreed to, and Jon had been somewhat annoyed about, likely hoping to snatch him up himself (though he had already named his Hand in Davos Seaworth, and Dany knew despite his annoyance he would never dismiss the man who had become one of his closest allies and friends). Tyrion had been crucial to them, and so as he indicated it was time to leave, they followed out to the dragon's, and as always, she smiled as she approached her children.

God's, she loved them, and part of her was sad to know they were growing up, and not all three were loyal to her anymore. Of course, they still saw her as their Mother, but she knew that other than Drogon their loyalty had now shifted. Viserion was loyal to Aegon, and Rhaegar to Jon, it showed as they approached, and all three dragons’ bent their wings to their riders without hesitation. Though it was a little sad, again she felt the same satisfaction coursing through her veins; her brother had apparently lived by the idea that 'the dragon had three heads' as it showed on their house symbol, and he had been right, it did; Dany, Aegon and Jon made up those three heads, with their loyal dragons by their side. Jon may have Ghost as well, but that did not matter to her. They were the three heads of the dragon, the Targaryen family restored.

"Shall we?" Dany said, as she settled on Drogon, Tyrion, Vary's, Missandei and Grey Worm behind her, whilst Aegon and Jon rode alone (Drogon just about accepted other people riding behind his Mother, his brothers most certainly did not).  
"We shall" Jon spoke with a nod, and Aegon nodded to, all three of them serious now as they took to the skies.

* * *

Sansa had managed to calm herself as she had arrived in the courtyard, a shaky plan in mind, but a plan all the same. She refused to remain here, to remain as Alayne at the mercy of Littlefinger. No, she would not do so. She had decided, she would reveal herself before the Targaryen’s left. She knew it was to be a short ceremony, a simple formality, but regardless she would reveal herself before it was over. She was scared to do so, to hand herself over to the mercy of the Targaryen’s, but was better than being here. If Jon were present that would be better, though she cringed at how she had treated him in her youth, hated herself for it even. Either way, any alternative was better than being here, she had to get away from Littlefinger.

Because she understood now; if he had no plans to reveal her, that surely meant he planned to keep her for himself, perhaps to marry her in place of her Mother? The thought terrified her, and she had needed to take a few moments in the dining room to calm herself before she made her plan, before she was calm enough to think straight. It was a feeble plan yes, and would be difficult, but she was determined, determined to carry it out. She would not be Alayne Stone forever, she was Sansa Stark of Winterfell, she belonged in the North, she belonged anywhere but the Vale, hidden as the bastard daughter of Petyr Baelish. She would not allow herself to rot away in the Vale, not as Petyr Baelish's daughter or wife. She would not.

And so, she stood in the courtyard, in the line-up. Petyr stood first, followed by her, then Robin who was clutching both her hand, and Myranda Royce who stood on his other side next to her Father. All the Lords of the Vale stood in the line-up, all awaiting the arrival of the Targaryen's. Of course, all knew what was going to happen; they would bend the knee and Robin would be named Lord Paramount of the Vale, the meeting was a simple formality.

But not for Sansa. For Sansa, this meeting was a matter of life and death, the course of her future would be determined here, with the wind whistling through the air, and gentle flakes of snow trickling from the sky, she knew, this might be one of the most crucial moments of her young life. She was terrified, shaking a little now, this had to go right.

She was determined…her future would be one she would be happy with, not one she would be forced into, and so she had to act, and she would. Her eyes tightened and seemed to grow colder, like steel …

_‘I have turned from porcelain, to ivory, to steel’_

She would be free.

* * *

As they circled the Eyrie, Aegon managed to get a good look at it, and to be truthful he was impressed. He had grown up on stories of Westeros, of his homelands, of the Iron Throne that was rightfully his, and though the Vale had not been a particular area of his interest he could appreciate it all the same. It was a magnificent structure, and he was thankful for the dragon’s, they never would have been able to take it without them, it would have cost too many men. And so, as they circled overhead, almost like vultures he thought wryly, he patted Viserion gently on the side, and nudged him to go forward. It was time to land and time to see the men of the Vale bend the knee.

It felt good to be here, to be subduing the final Kingdom. After this, they would move onto Kings Landing. Jon would fly North, and he would go South, he frowned at that, he could admit he'd miss Jon when he'd left, when they'd first met he was sure he was a mummer's farce, but after some convincing and the clear records from the Citadel it had been clear, and Aegon had embraced his new brother, happy to have another family member, another Targaryen in the world. He would be sad to see him go, but he knew it was necessary, Jon belonged in the North, whilst Aegon belonged on the Iron Throne.

He was glad to be able to say that to himself. For a while it had been unclear if Dany would agree to the compromise, but he was pleased she had. It made the most sense, and though he understood her frustration at giving the Throne up, they'd reached as fair a compromise as they could. Also, he never planned on excluding her, he would always seek her counsel, and include her in every decision he made, and would never rule over her or have her submit to his will. Honestly, he considered her to be Queen in all but name, hell he would have married her if she could have produced heir's (though in reality he probably wouldn’t have, the thought made him feel ill, she was family and he was not the original Aegon happy to take on sister wives), but regardless she couldn’t. And so he would need to marry someone else, a prospect he was not excited by.

Already the names were pouring in from all the Kingdoms of who he should marry. Dorne wanted him to marry Arianna, to honour the original pact made to betroth Arianna to his Uncle Visery's. The Reach were offering Margaery Tyrell up, with promises of a large dowry if he agreed. Yara had offered herself up as Queen to placate the Iron Islanders desire for further power and hordes of minor noble houses had sent raven's offering up their daughters to meet him. It almost made him ill, the idea of so many old men agreeing to sell their children off like cattle to a man they’d never even met. Dany had received many offers herself, but had already refused them all with laughter, insisting if she couldn't have children then she wouldn't marry, she'd already given away her heart long ago to her deceased husband, and had no desire to marry for anything less than such a love, something she was certain she could never feel again. It was easy for her, and she had teased him that being King came with sacrifices…right it did, even Jon knew how he was feeling, though it was slightly easier for him, since he only had the North to contend with (though by the sounds of it the Northern Lords were throwing their daughters at Jon as well), whereas Aegon had women from all the other Kingdoms to contend with.

Still, marriage was something to think on at another time, now he had a Kingdom to subdue. And so, with a whistle he lowered Viserion to the ground, next to Dany who had landed Drogon and was already stepping down from him. He followed her lead as Rhaegal landed with Jon on his back, and took his place next to his Aunt, as Jon moved to her other side, and their advisors stood on either side of them. The dragons remained in place, settling down, but not taking to the skies, as much as they likely wanted to fly, they would remain to protect their riders. They were all in position, and he knew they cut an intimidating picture, ready to discuss official terms and treaties, but a gasp to his left stunted all of that. He just saw a figure hurtling towards them, crying out. He almost took a defensive position, and he saw Grey Worm do the same, but the dragon’s didn’t move, clearly not seeing any threat, as Jon held a quelling hand up and ran forwards himself, meeting the crying figure in a crushing hug.

Aegon was confused and turned to glance at his Aunt, to ask her, but he saw her smiling, and he decided to look at his brother himself for his Aunt evidently was not going to explain. He looked over at Jon and as he saw the figure in his arms was a woman, with red roots, poorly dyed black hair and they were clutching at one another like drowning sailors to a life raft he understood immediately. This must be Sansa Stark. As she looked up and met his gaze, he knew it was her.

Good lord she was a beauty, delicate pale features, a slender but womanly body, long thick flowing hair that promised to be even more beautiful when the black was washed out. But aside from all that, it was her eyes that captured him, a deep blue… Tully blue he realised but almost like ice, chips of deep ice that gazed at him as he gazed back. He felt like he could drown in those eyes, and only came back to himself as she looked away.

So, she was found, she was here. Sansa Stark had been missing for years now, Jon had parties out looking for her. She had gone missing from King’s Landing after Joffrey’s murder, and it had been widely believed she was responsible for his demise, until Lady Olenna had admitted to the whole thing. She was here, she was beautiful, and he found himself staring at her for a moment.

But then he cursed himself, how foolish he was being! Acting like a green boy in the first throws of love. There were more important things to think of, particularly the fact that Sansa Stark had been found here. He was sure Jon had sent notices to all major and minor houses notifying them his cousins were missing and there was a reward for their return, so why hadn’t Littlefinger returned her? Aegon turned to ask just that, but with his focus on Sansa he had missed Jon leaping forward, said Regent of the Vale now unable to speak as Jon squeezed his hands around the man’s neck. The guards of the Eyrie had leapt forward but had not attacked yet (wisely so). Dany looked to be seeing red and Drogon was advancing forward, responding to his Mother as he always did.

Things had escalated quickly, too quickly, and Aegon knew he needed to gain some control. And so, he turned to look at Viserion, nodded and patted his loyal companion on the side, to which he roared in response, not to harm anyone but rather to gain some semblance of order to this situation. Thankfully, it worked as everyone stilled and quiet fell over the courtyard.

"Everyone calm down" He said in a firm voice, and he glanced at Dany who nodded, after all he was the King here, the Eyrie under his domain. “Brother” He said to Jon, for he would not order his brother around, they were both Kings, “Please release Baelish, and guards retrain him. Valemen stay back unless you wish to be roasted alive, and everyone stay calm” He paused again then before turning to look at the Northern beauty. Sansa looked terrified, trembling in place, though Tyrion had moved to stand next to her which seemed to offer her some comfort, hmmm he’d need to find out what that was about. “Lady Sansa” He smiled at her lightly then, trying to be sincere, and by the look on her safe he seemed to succeed as she nodded at him, “Could you please explain what on earth is going on here?”

* * *


	2. Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy, I love this pairing and I love this story. wish I could do the peace emoji on here / 
> 
> pls let me know if you enjoyed, and please give me some suggestions for pairings for jon! I am at a loss. 
> 
> songrecs: video games - lana del rey

She wasn't sure what had propelled her forwards, what had motivated her to fling herself towards three towering beasts and the huddle of people stood in front of them just to get to Jon. Normally Sansa would never be so brave, so bold as to simply break rank and take a chance, but this time she had, she had to. Any plan had gone out of the window the moment she had seen him. He was here, and he looked good, really good, so much like her Father, so strong. She had moved as soon as he had stepped onto the ground, uncaring that she was surrounded by dragon’s that could roast her on the spot. He was here, and all she could think about was going to him.

Part of her knew it was because it was her only chance, by the looks of it the Targaryen's and their people would not be staying long, no they would be leaving as soon as they came, this meeting more of a formality than anything else, they would not linger. That gave her just one chance, one chance to escape the Vale, escape Robert and his neediness, and more importantly it was her one chance to escape Littlefinger, to escape his schemes, his plans, the looks he gave her. She knew this was her one opportunity to be free of him and free of this place.

And so, she had taken it.

She had been nervous, extremely so, shaking as she waited, waited just a second before acting. With shame and colour in her cheeks she remembered their frosty relationship as children. She had taken on her Mothers contempt for him, treated him awfully, shunning him, ignoring him, laughing at him, like a child, an idiot who didn't understand, just parroting her mother. That had stopped her momentarily in her tracks, she had been ready to fling herself at him, and yet became scared to do so, questions flying through her mind. Would he accept her? Or would he shove her away with a sneer? A sneer she had often directed towards him in her younger years…would he turn from her? Could she blame him if he did?

But she had known she had to risk it, regardless of the outcome. Surely Jon rejecting her was better than remaining here with Littlefinger? Yes, she was thankful towards him for having rescued her, but she did not trust him, only a fool would trust that man, and many who had, had ended up dead. She also knew she was in danger around him, with the looks he gave her, the way he hugged her, the kisses he had tried to force on her. She had to get away from him, staying here would only bring her ruin. She was not Alayne Stone, his bastard daughter, she was Sansa Stark, Stark. Surely, she had some political leverage as the Eldest Stark daughter. Perhaps if Jon rejected her the Targaryen’s would still take her to be married off, or perhaps she could appeal to Tyrion? He had always been kind to her. With those thoughts swimming around in her mind she knew she had to act, and so she did.

As soon as Jon stepped down from his dragon, she had pushed her hood away and took a step forward. Littlefinger had whispered, a whisper that was both terrified and angry for her to fall back in line, to get back and stop acting out. She had ignored him, and as soon as Jon was on the ground she had rushed forward, ignoring Littlefinger’s cry out to her, ignored his shout and Robin’s cry. She would not remain here, she could not, and this was her chance. She didn't care if Jon rejected her, if he laughed at her and told her to stay back, if he sneered at her like she deserved. As long as he took her with him, for political uses or any other reason, it was better than remaining in the Vale, anything was better than being stuck here.

And so, she had ran to him, hurling her body forwards, too quick for the Vale soldiers to realise what she was doing. She hadn't cared that some of the men with her brother held out spears, or that the dragons seemed to shuffle, ready to burn her. She hadn't cared, she had only flung herself at Jon, desperate to get to him. Crossing the small expanse to him had felt like walking for miles, rather than the few short steps she had to take to get to him. But then she had, she had reached him.

And she had hesitated.

Scared, scared of rejection, terrified he'd turn away from her. But he hadn't. She had seen the look of recognition in his eyes, the light of hope like a flame across his face. His expression had surely mirrored hers, one of hope, one of utter joy and shock, and that, that had encouraged her. And then, once he had opened his arms she had ran the few short steps left between them, and thudded into him, hearing his gasp as she knocked the wind from his body, but he didn't move, he just clutched her as she clutched him, so tight they might squeeze one another to death. Her feet lifted from the ground as he crushed her too him and a sob left her lips as she squeezed him tight, so tight, as though she would never let go.

Tears had sprung from her eyes, and she had sobbed as she held onto him, tears soon running down her cheeks. For a moment, it had been just the two of them, clinging to one another, family reunited, everyone else as gone as two members of the Stark pack came back together. "I'm sorry, I’m so sorry Jon" She had whispered in his ear and she had felt him shake her head, clutch her closer for a moment before reluctantly placing her down. As he did, he pulled back, cupped her cheek and looked her over, checking she was okay. As he did she placed her hand on top of his, her tears still streaming, though she smiled as she looked up at him and he smiled at her.

She was free, free! His reaction had shown her, he wouldn't just take her away to use for her name, no, he'd take her away because he cared, because he loved her, loved her like a sister, as she loved him. He'd take her away from this awful place, with the horrible men, and her pretend Father. He'd take her away, probably back up North, to Winterfell, to home! A place she had once never dared to hope to return to. He’d stay with her, take her to Bran and Rickon, and they’d find Arya together, and the Stark pack would be reunited. It was perfect.

And then everything had been thrown into chaos.

She had only managed to whirl around as she saw Jon stride over to Littlefinger, grasp him by the throat and pin him to the ground. "Jon no!" She had called out, not to protect Baelish, but because of the soldiers of the Vale, all drawing arms ready to advance on Jon in an instant. “Jon!” She screamed out as she saw the tips of their spears and their worried faces, no! She would not lose him now. She took a step forward, as did his dragon had stepped forward, the great green one spreading its wings and growling under its breath, it stepped in front of her, as though shielding her whilst trying to reach his rider. She tried to reach Jon but the dragon kept her back, as Daenery’s opened her mouth to bark commands and all hell seemed to break loose.

Sansa had only felt fear run through her. She had just found Jon, the thought of him being hurt, of the Valemen reaching him had terrified her. She had called out, screamed to him in fear, they had just found one another! They had just been reunited! She needed him, Bran and Rickon needed him, she could not stand to see him hurt, how cruel that would be now.

But then a deadly roar had sounded, and the action in the courtyard stopped.

* * *

Jon hadn't quite been able to believe his eyes, that she was here, right in front of him. He had recognised her the second he had stepped down, even without her red hair, dressed in Vale clothing, it would have been impossible not to spot her. Her posture, her mannerisms, and then when he had seen her face, her smile, the features of Catelyn Tully reborn, as clear as day. It was Sansa, and his own smile had broken out on his features. She was here, his little sister … cousin now he supposed, but little sister to him all the same.

He had been looking for her for a while; bands of his men had been roaming the countryside in search of her, and Arya. The latter had proved harder to find, and remained missing, but now he had one of his sisters back. Sure, Arya had been the sister he was closer with, but he loved Sansa all the same.

Sure, she hadn't been the best to him growing up, shunning him, repeating her Mother's mannerisms, but they'd still shared those precious sibling moments. When she'd fallen in the courtyard scraped her knee, and he had carried her sobbing to Maester Luwin, stroking her hair and holding her hand as the Maester had stitched her up. When he'd caught her in the kitchen stealing lemon cakes and promised not to tell anyone so long as he could have some, and they'd spent the entire night sat on the floor stuffing themselves full. When he'd punched Lord Bolton's eldest son Domeric in the nose at age 10 because he'd told Sansa her braids weren't pretty, and then she'd braided his long curls to make herself feel better and he hadn't taken them out for two days. Sure, over the years they'd grown distant, but regardless Jon would always love her, always remember those moments. Jon would never blame her for acting like her Mother back then, she had been a child. He loved her.

And evidently, she felt the same way.

He did notice her hesitate as she approached him, fear and worry in her eyes. He too had been nervous, a lump forming in his throat. Was she relieved to see him because of the love she felt for him? Or because she was thankful to be rescued from this place? Surrounded by strangers and all? He'd been unsure too, but had made the first move, opening his arms to her, allowing her to make the decision, the power to reject him, for he wanted her to be comfortable.

And then she'd ran to him all fear in her eyes gone, grinning from ear to ear as she did so, he'd swept her into his arms, clutching her tight, relief and happiness coursing through him, clutching her so tightly he was sure he might bruise her. She was here, she was safe, and soon enough she'd be back up North with him. He didn't care that the Valemen had raised their weapons, or that Littlefinger was glaring at them from across the courtyard. He was a King now, with a dragon of his own and the backing of the Targaryen family. Sansa was his family too, and damn right he’d be taking her home. She belonged in Winterfell, with him, Bran and Rickon and Arya when they found her. The Stark pack reunited. He was King, he would protect them all.

It was strange that, being a King. He'd been born a bastard, never to be anything more, and yet he'd gained so much. Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch turned King in the North, and then suddenly a legitimate child, son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. The right to the Iron Throne had been his, and yet when he'd explained this all to his new brother, his aunt, he'd immediately made clear; he didn't want the Iron Throne, would never move his seat to King's Landing, never wanted to be a Southern King. The North was his, and that was all, and from there a compromise had been easy. Still it was odd, to be a King, to wear a crown, to be a King of his men. It was something he’d dreamed of as a child, of course, as all young boys did, but now it was a reality, and he found he liked it, it felt right.

As did being a Targaryen. Yes, he would always first and foremost be a Stark, always keep the Stark name, but now he knew his other half, his heritage. He had the blood of the dragon, and now Rhaegal stood by his side. Sure, it had taken a lot of getting used to at first (and he had vomited twice when Samwell Tarly had shown him the records from the Citadel), but now he had somewhat come to understand and accept his position. He would always be known as King Stark, but the history pages would call him a Targaryen.

And now there was another Stark, Sansa and she would be coming home with him. He'd keep her by his side, make her feel safe again. He heard her whispered apology and those words meant more to him than most he'd heard in his life. He needn't have worried about her rejecting him, evidently, she'd been scared he would push her away, and there was no apology needed as he shook his head, kissed her cheek and pulled her back to look at her, to make sure she was okay. Yes, she looked well as he pulled her back, his eyes scanning her face, but he doubted she'd been treated properly since fleeing Kings Landing. She was in the court of Littlefinger after all, a notorious man Varys had warned him about. No, he imagined Sansa had been through her own hardships, though he didn't know what, and part of him wasn't sure he wanted to know … such a thought made him furious.

Why hadn't Littlefinger bought her back to him? He had been declared King in the North with ravens sent all around, to every major and minor house declaring he had allied himself with the Targaryen's. He had sent additional ravens to all houses with a reward for safe return of his siblings. So why had Baelish not sent her home? Why had he dyed her hair and dressed her like a woman of the Vale? So many unanswered questions, and yet he knew this man had been scheming. After all, as soon as he had arrived Sansa had thrown herself at him, risking rejection because clearly, she was so desperate to get away from this man, desperate to escape, he never would have rejected her of course, but she didn’t know that, he had seen how she hesitated. She had risked in her mind being turned away. Sure, he understood they were siblings (or at least practically were), and they loved one another, but surely, she wouldn't have ran to him with such urgency if she was happy in her current situation? No, Sansa had ran to him like a woman desperate to escape, a woman out of options, and no doubt Littlefinger had something to do with that.

A growl shook through him then as he thought over such a thing, and he both felt rage within him and saw Rhaegal rouse himself in response to his masters emotion, but Jon had no need for his dragon now, no all he needed was his hands.

And soon he was using them, said hands clamped around Littlefinger’s throat after storming across the courtyard, too quick for his men to interfere in time. All he could see was that this swine had kept Sansa from him, likely terrified and used her, and that made him throw out logic and simply want to strangle the man to death, to get revenge, not just for himself, but for Sansa , revenge for whatever this man had done to her, revenge for whatever he had done to make Sansa look so scared.

He didn't even listen as Dany called out to him, as the men of the Vale approached weapons drawn, and Sansa yelled out in fear. No, all he could see was red, until he heard the roar of Viserion, and his brother's words over the sudden silence. He wanted to continue to throttle the man, but he knew he needed to let him go, to make sense of what happened. Jon had allowed himself to be ruled by his emotions, but he couldn’t simply kill a Lord without just cause. He couldn’t react like that, and so reluctantly he stepped back, shoving Baelish on his ass before he strode back over to Sansa, taking her hand, tucking her to his side, giving Tyrion a nod of thanks. Sansa seemed to calm as she clutched his hand and he glared across at the Valeman. Sansa was not leaving his side not now, not in the future, he’d like to see them try and take her away. He may not enjoy war, but he’d go to it for his family, always.

There was no need though. The Valemen threw down their arms in the face of three dragons and the members of the household soon bent the knee. Baelish was restrained and the atmosphere calmed a touch.

He turned to Sansa as things calmed down, "It's alright" His voice was gentle, for he could see Sansa was unsettled, but she needed to answer his brother's questions, they all needed answers. He clutched her hand in his and offered her a smile, “It’s alright, you’re safe” She nodded then, she believed she was safe which was good. “So, tell me what happened here?” She bit down on her lip then and he gave her a little nudge of encouragement, to which she seemed to steel herself, she would be okay, she would. He would make sure of it.

* * *

Well that had gone well, Aegon mused with a roll of his violet eyes. This meeting had meant to be nothing more than formality, a shaking of hands, signing of a treaty and they'd be on their way, another Kingdom under their rule, 6 Kingdoms united. They had a million things to do in Kings Landing, and he was aware his brother had just as many things to do in Winterfell. They didn't have time to be messing around with problems in the Vale, no, so this needed to be sorted quickly, though clearly it was not going to be.

 _Fantastic_.

At least the situation seemed to be in control now, a roar of a dragon certainly resulted in silence. The men of the Vale had thrown down their weapons and Baelish had been restrained. Lady Sansa was by her brothers’ side and the boy Lord of the Vale would no doubt do as he was told. Aegon realised that he couldn’t see any other Lords in the courtyard, no doubt Baelish’s doing. They’d need to see to getting them up here, install one as a regent over the boy. That would work. Evidently, Baelish could not stay on here. Jon would never allow it, and though Aegon ruled the Vale, he would not go against his brothers’ wishes in this. Also, technically Baelish had committed a crime by keeping a highborn Lady, a cousin to the King no less, hostage.

He realised then he probably should have referred to Sansa as Lady Stark and he winced. No one would reprimand him of course but he had to remember the little things now he was going to be King. He had to remember the social niceties and customs that were expected in the South. He was no pompous Prince, never would be but he had to ensure he followed the Westerosi way in these things.

At least he could think of one thing that made him smile, Jon was no more proper a King than he was, having manhandled a noble Lord without due cause. All the same, Jon was of the North, they cared less about etiquette there and more about results. Jon had already won them over by releasing them from the tyrannical grip of the Bolton's, and defeating the Iron Born at sea, handing the seat to the eldest Greyjoy girl and smoothing things over there with ease, installing a Northern harbour at Sea Dragon Point to ensure the North could dominate in the sea. No, Jon had already won his people over, which Aegon admired, the Northern men weren't easy to bow, but they admired two things: the Stark name and freedom, Jon had given them both, and they would be loyal to him and his heirs for life, Aegon was sure of that. Aegon had to inspire the same feeling in the Southerners, he would, to ensure a peaceful rule.

And he knew the people of the South were easier to win over in some ways and not so in others. He realised one of his key ways to win them over would be in his marriage, that would be a defining moment, and cement his rule, or weaken it ... not that he would allow the latter to happen, he would marry whomever necessary to ensure his rule ran smoothly, he would sacrifice love in that regard, as all good Kings would do. Jon had once said to him, ‘Love is the death of duty’, to which Tyrion had countered, ‘Duty is the death of love’. Both were true in a sense, but Aegon would do his duty, he would marry whomever necessary to ensure his reign.

"Aegon" He heard his Aunt then, looking at him with a confused expression as the courtyard fell silent, "Are you done looking gormlessly into the distance?" She said in a whisper so no others could hear, she smirked as she said it, though there was a hint of seriousness to her tone. He glared at her as he turned his gaze back to Jon and Sansa, as he awaited the Stark girl's explanation, and Dany just laughed at that, before falling silent herself.

"I…" But no, explanation came, as she managed just one letter before shaking her head, and completely shutting down. Jon had reassured her for sure, and Aegon could see some steel in her eyes, but evidently, she was not ready to talk yet. Again, Aegon resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He knew he needed to be less impatient now, needed to not have such a distaste for weakness, or such a low threshold for irritation. No, he had to be fair, kind, just, if he was King, not allow that famous Targaryen temper to get the better of him, as it had in the past (and no doubt would in the future, nobody was perfect after all). He had to be patient, and he did sympathise with Lady Sansa, no doubt she’d had a bad time of it here, but all the same he needed answers, and needed them quickly.

"Shall we perhaps move this elsewhere?" He heard his Hand speak then, Tyrion would always have a solution, and clearly, he knew Lady Stark was likely feeling extremely uncomfortable, perhaps a change of scenery would benefit them? Aegon nodded and made his way over to Viserion. Staying in the Eyrie would likely cause Lady Sansa to remain mute, he wondered if once she was on the ground and away from Baelish’s people, she’d feel better. It seemed as good as a setting as any.

"We'll move this to our camp at the base of the Eyrie" Daenerys spoke then, her voice commanding, evidently having the same thoughts as he was, "We'll take the brothel keeper, and return here soon to discuss our treaty" She said with a nod, but then turned her suddenly fierce gaze to the men of the Vale, "And do not use this time to come up with a plan to take arms against us, or we'll simply burn the Eyrie to the ground, our children do so love to set fire to things and we will not hesitate to let them" On that note she turned away, with a nod at Aegon, she waited the rest of their party to join her on Drogon, before she took to the skies and gently eased Drogon down to the ground.

He followed suit, sending one last glare to the soldiers of House Arryn. He paused however when he saw Jon climbing atop Rhaegal with Sansa (who was shaking from head to two and practically had to be carried by Jon onto the back of the dragon named for his Father). With a sigh he realised it came down to him to transport Baelish. That left a rank taste in his mouth, but he knew it was necessary, no matter how distasteful. Viserion did not like any but him riding him but for now it was necessary. He gave his loyal dragon a pat on the side, and with a nod his men mounted Viserion, dragging Baelish between them. He ignored the brothel keepers’ protests, and instead took to the air after Jon, plummeting down to the camp, ignoring Littlefinger’s screams, if anything they put a small smile on his face.

* * *

Once they landed it felt as though she was finally able to breath. She was free! Away from the Eyrie with Littlefinger in chains. It felt almost impossible to believe. Part of her was convinced she'd wake on the next morrow, it having all been a dream. And yet it was real, she was sure it was real, it certainly felt real. The ride on the green dragon of Jon's had certainly felt real, and she had been shaky both on and off the creature, even though it seemed happy for her to ride him, something Jon commented on with a wry smile.

She now stood on solid ground and it felt a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Like a tight pressure had been constant on her chest for years and now it was gone. She was with Jon, she was free of King’s Landing and Baelish, she was finally back with family, and soon she would be home. Tears sprung to her eyes as she realised just what had happened. The feeling of freedom, the feeling of being Sansa Stark again …. It was almost overwhelming, hence her trembling and the urge to burst into noisy sobs. It was almost too much, and yet she had to remind herself that she was a Lady, a Lady of the North, she kept her dignity, even though all she wished to do was cry and run around in circles, overjoyed she was free from the clutches of Littlefinger. She would cry tonight, in the privacy of her own bed, not now, now she needed to be strong.

_‘I am a Stark, yes, I can be brave’_

She would be.

She heard screaming as the new King landed. Aegon … he was more handsome than she imagined and those eyes, they were piercing, a deep purple. She hadn’t meant to gaze at him, but she had for a second too long. She wasn’t some silly girl anymore, dreaming about Prince’s and Knight’s, but she had been caught for a moment, caught in that handsome gaze. He seemed kind, handsome, if arrogant. She didn’t know him to make a judgement and did not anticipate getting to know him, she’d be going North with Jon after all. All she knew was that she would never trust a King again … at least not a King of the South, never again. Once Jon took her back to Winterfell, she was never stepping a foot past the Neck again, never.

Littlefinger’s screams seemed to dissipate as he was dragged from the white dragons back and taken into what was a suddenly heavily guarded tent. It was then she was shaken from her thoughts by Jon, who had given her a light shake to the shoulders but was smiling kindly to her. She smiled back at him, happiness blooming within her for the first time in months, maybe years.

Jon … how easily he had accepted her. She resisted the urge to throw her arms around him again. She had been so scared he’d reject her, and yet she felt foolish for thinking such a thing. He had scooped her into his arms, held her close and promised to keep her safe. And she believed him, she trusted him, her dear brother. He may be a cousin now but in her eyes, he was her brother. He would make sure she was safe, she knew that.

"We need to go in now" He nodded his head to the largest tent, to which she could see the majority of the party walking into. The dragons had taken off as soon as it was clear they were not needed. She could see them flying overhead though, remaining close to their riders, but enjoying the freedom of the skies, she could even see them playing together a little, and she smiled at that. The skies seemed so freeing, and yet she was free now, she felt it. She wondered if the dragons felt as free as she did.

And so, she nodded her head to Jon and took his arm. She didn't want to do this, to have to explain and drag up the atrocities she had faced, but she knew she must. She had faltered on the mountain, too terrified to speak in the place that had been her prison, and yet they had moved here to accommodate her, she couldn't not give her account now, she needed to be strong. She had to tell them the truth, the new King, Jon, the Dragon Queen. She'd have to tell them all, and though that thought filled her with fear she just clutched Jon's arm harder as he led them forwards, determined, strong - she was Sansa Stark, she would not cower, not ever again.

_‘I am a Stark, yes, I can be brave’_

She could be.

She would be.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed, god I love sansa, such a badass b, don't @ me, she has grown. 
> 
> pls lemme know your thoughts 
> 
> speak soon


	3. Justice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go, over three weeks late, that is my b. 
> 
> hope you enjoy, pls let me know if you do. 
> 
> also, if you love this pairing (like I do) check out my lil oneshot 'dynasty' 
> 
> songrecs: all I do is cry - kim petras

Aegon had happily seen the brothel keeper taken off screaming at the injustice of it all. He'd merely rolled his violet eyes and ignored the man as he was placed in a heavily guarded tent, screaming endlessly about his riches and how they'd all regret this, how he'd have his revenge and what not. That had caused him to scoff; the man had nothing now, no power, no hope, nothing. Sure, they would need to discover his misdeeds, discover what he had been doing (and surely the list was long), but they would ensure me was met with justice.

Justice. It would be the backbone of Aegon's rule he was sure. He would not be tarred with the same brush as his Grandfather, never. He knew he had to be careful, his Targaryen temper could often overrule his rationality, and he often felt the need for immediate vengeance rather than to wait and be patient, but he had to be patient, he had to learn to be patient. He was going to be King, once all this business was cleared up, they would go to King's Landing, and he would be crowned. He had to be better, he had to be patient, he was to be King, he couldn't afford mistakes, not now, not ever.

And there was so much to sort out, so much it almost gave him a headache.

But he had been prepared for this, trained and taught from a young age to rule. Jon Connington had been his rock, his mentor, his Father in all but name. He had taught him the way forward, taught him to be fair, but ruthless if need be. Aegon would be a good King, he knew that, he just had to live up to what he knew he could do. He thought of Jon then and felt a small pang in his heart. He had loved Jon like a Father, but the man had died in battle against the Others, a hero's death. He had wept the night he had seen Jon's body and his brother had comforted him. As one Jon left his life another entered. It was bittersweet in every way. Jon had taught him to be a good King, and a good King he would be.

And that would start now. Conquering and ruling were two very different things, as Robert Baratheon had failed to realise. They had conquered the Six Kingdoms, had defeated the threat of the Others beyond the Wall, they had won through bloodshed and battle, but now? Now they had so much more to do. They needed to fix the realm.

First, he would be crowned, and then he would name his small council, and deal with all those who'd stood against him. Thankfully most major houses still existed, but certain Lordships and titles would need to be revoked and handed out. He had plenty of prisoners in the black cells to deal with, and then it would be the matter of sorting out the crown's debt. Then there was the Faith to deal with, and that would not be easy. There was so much to do, and yet Aegon looked forward to doing it. He had fought for this, he had bled for this, he had lost for this. He would be King as he had always wanted, and he would shoulder the responsibilities that came with that. He did not want to be King simply for the glory, this was his birth right, his destiny, and he would take it all.

"Brother" He heard Jon's voice and turned to smile at him. Aegon was delighted to have a brother, to not be a lone Targaryen as he had once believed. No, there were three of them now, the three heads of the dragon, and they would ensure the family name continued on and thrived, they would re-establish the Targaryen dynasty. "Shall we?" And Aegon nodded but hesitated for a second and then paused.

Jon evidently had not progressed to the meeting room alone. Sansa Stark stood to his side, her eyes on the floor. A shame she acted such a way … almost as though her spirit was broken, and he felt his anger boil as he knew that was Littlefinger's doing. No beauty such as her should have her eyes on her feet. He wanted to say something, to comfort her, but what? He didn't know her. Yes, they had shared a look earlier in the courtyard … or rather he had unashamedly gazed at her for far too long … it was those eyes, so beautiful, so all consuming… he hadn't been able to help himself. But that was no excuse, he was a man grown for goodness sake, a King, not some greenboy lusting after a girl. And besides, she didn't know him, he did not want to step out of bounds, and he saw the look Jon had when he glanced at his cousin … the look of over-protectiveness, Aegon felt perhaps it was better he said nothing.

And yet of course he couldn't help himself. Aegon knew he was too impulsive, always going for what he wanted. He was ruthless in that sense too, and far too arrogant for his own good sometimes (at least that was what Daenery's said, often with a roll of her eyes), and yet here his voice was gentle … or as gentle as he could be, as he spoke to Sansa, "My Lady, I hope you are well, we'll proceed to the main hall and discuss Littlefinger's crimes before seeing justice done" He hoped he sounded gentle, Aegon had been raised to be kind and fair yes, but not gentle, gentleness could be construed as weakness, and he couldn't afford to be weak.

The way she flinched in response told him he hadn't been gentle, and yet Jon didn't admonish him, nor react (and he knew Jon could be fiercely protective too, just one wildling had made an out of line comment towards Daenery's and Jon had first broken his nose and then near set Ghost on him), and so Aegon presumed his words had been kind enough at least. Evidently, Sansa was a little shaky, could he blame her? He knew shortly they'd need to find out what she had endured under Littlefinger, and yet Aegon wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know; he could imagine it hadn't been pleasant. He could hardly blame her for her weakness, though he hoped it didn't last long. He had briefly seen a flash of steel in her eyes, and that he liked.

"Perhaps Sansa should sit out of this discussion?" Jon said, his protectiveness rearing its head as he turned the cousin, Aegon knew he still considered a sister. And yet she shook her head, her gaze flickering up to her cousin and then to him. Again, Aegon found himself looking into her gaze before she looked away again … it was something about those eyes that drew him in, he couldn't quite place it.

And yet he cursed himself again, this was not how he was supposed to act. Good Lord he was acting like his Father. Lusting after a Northern woman and look how that had all turned out, sure it had resulted in Jon, but otherwise? It had led to a rebellion and the end of the Targaryen dynasty. No, as beautiful as Sansa Stark was, there was nothing there that could blossom between them. Though he found himself wanting to get to know her better, even protect her, there was nothing that could happen. He would need to marry a girl from the South, likely Margaery Tyrell or Arianne Martell. He would not be ruled by his own wants, but what was best for the realm. That was what a good King would do. He also didn't quite know why he felt this immediate need to protect her, it was odd. Perhaps it was because she was family to Jon? Yes, he nodded to himself that, that must be the answer, not wanting to probe any further than that.

"I'm fine Jon" She said, her voice quiet, and yet clear, "I know you need me to tell you what's been happening, and besides I want to help" She said, and then lifted her head, even placed a small smile on her features, "It's hard but I'm stronger now, I want to see justice done, honour demands it after all" She said, and Aegon again found himself catching her gaze, even found a smile coming to his features, now there was that steel, and he could see it in her eyes. Lady Sansa's spirit was not broken, it had just been quelled, it was still there. He smiled and she smiled back, though it was a small smile. She was a strong woman, and a Northerner through and through apparently, honour ruling her judgement, Jon was just the same. Northerners were truly a breed of their own, weren't they? And yet he found a comradery in those ideals of honour and justice, he hoped to rule in the same kind.

"Then lets go" He said simply, and Sansa nodded, breaking away from his gaze then. He found he regretted it but with a nod turned and made his way to the main tent. It was time to see justice done.

* * *

Everyone moved into the main tent, as servants bustled around, pouring out wine into held out goblets and plating up food on a long table at the back that would be their feast after the discussion. They marched with a smaller retinue this time, the main army already marching to Kings Landing with trusted Unsullied leading them. All they had here was a small collection of servants, advisors, guards, the Targaryen's themselves, and now Sansa Stark too.

Daenery's wasn't sure what to think of Jon's cousin in truth. Yes, she was a beauty as many had described her, even more beautiful than her she had to admit. And yet timid it seemed, with a quiet strength underneath. Dany approved of that and knew the girl had more to her than she had shown thus far, clearly holding something back. Dany wished she could get to know her better, and yet she knew in such a short amount of time it would be impossible. They had Littlefinger to deal with, then to go back to the Eyrie for the reason they had originally came, and then Jon would go North with Sansa, and she and Aegon would go South to King's Landing.

That filled her with such a sense of pride when she thought of that. All these years she had fought, she had hurt, she had sacrificed and suffered, and yet they were here. She felt a little bitter it wouldn't be she climbing those steps, and taking her place on the Iron Throne, and yet she understood and agreed with the decision they had come to. It had hurt at first, acknowledging that Aegon had both the better claim, and would likely be better received by the people, but she had come to accept it. If not her, then at least a Targaryen would sit on the Throne, and she would help him rule and shape Westeros to its best. Such thoughts filled her with pride and happiness, they were so close, so close to forging the Targaryen dynasty once more, and this time they would ensure it lasted.

They had so much to do, she knew that, and she was sure Aegon knew it too. He was cocky yes, ruthless and impatient, but she knew he would make a good King, she was sure of it. He was kind, looked out for the good of his people, loyal and true. He would do well, and this realm needed a good King, especially now, when there was so much pain and so much to be dealt with.

Jon had it easy in that sense, managing one kingdom instead of 6 … but then his Kingdom would still be larger than Aegon's combined, and he had all sorts of painful decisions to make, and so much to manage. Honestly, it was harder to see who would be getting the worst deal of it all, but they had all wanted this … well not Jon she supposed, though he had marched on the Bolton's, he had never wanted to be King.

That did not mean he would do a bad job; she was sure he would do well. The Northerners loved him, and he would marry a Northern bride to cement his claim there. He would do well, as would Aegon, she would make sure of it.

She was snapped from her thoughts as the tent flaps opened and in marched Jon and Aegon, with Sansa to. She had expected to see Sansa clinging to Jon's side, and though she was clutching his arm she had stopped shaking, was no longer staring at the floor and seemed a little stronger. Daenery's smiled at that and gave her a nod as she walked inside. Yes she still looked scared but clearly she had found some of her metal, that was good.

It didn't take long for everyone convene, chairs set up in a circle, so they could talk easily.

Aegon sat down first, and Jon next to him on his right, with Daenery's taking her place at his left, as it always would be. Tyrion was then next to her, with Sansa next to Jon. Finally, Missandei sat next to Tyrion, and Vary's completed the circle next to both Missandei and Sansa. Grey Worm stood vigil by the door, everyone who needed to be here was here, except Dany knew that Jon felt annoyed not having Davos by his side, but Davos was back up North, keeping everything under control until Jon returned … when Jon returned.

The selfish part of Dany wanted Jon to remain with them. To come to King's Landing, to sit on the Small Council, to keep the three of them together. She knew if he had agreed, he would have been Aegon's hand, Tyrion would have happily stepped aside, and Aegon would have accepted nothing less. But he had told them time and time again, he did not belong in the South. He belonged in the North, with Ghost by his side, and now Rhaegal too. He belonged in Winterfell, with the Stark and Targaryen banners flying high on the towers. It was where he was meant to be, and as much as Dany hated to admit it, she knew he was right. She also knew now he would return there for Sansa. Sansa needed the comfort of home and Jon would take her there.

And he would be fine. She would visit often, the journey on the back of Drogon would only take days rather than weeks, and he had agreed to visit Kings Landing at least once a year to see them, and they had agreed to do the same to Winterfell. They would send ravens and remain in touch, it wouldn't be the same as all being together … but it was enough, it would be enough.

It was surprising how close they had all grown so quickly, but then they were the last remaining Targaryen's, and there was a need to stick together. Add on to that that Jon and Aegon seemed meant to be best friends, and she was the third of the trio, keeping them in line, but loving them all the same and she knew both she and Aegon would miss Jon, and he would miss them. They just clicked the three of them, it was natural, the way a family should be, it was a good foundation for the Kingdom's to be built on, and Dany hoped … no she knew it would be well.

Things would be well, she told herself. It was all well and good to hope, but action meant more than prayers, and she knew they had done right in their actions so far, and would continue to do so.

Once everyone was seated, a few servants bustled in to pour wine and offer food. But everyone stuck to drinking, they'd have a small feast later, once they officially took the Eyrie. It was good as done with Littlefinger in chains in their camp, but they would need to return to have Robert Arryn officially bend the knee. The boys would no doubt protest, (and she was not sure how she would pry Jon from Sansa's side) but she would get them to do it. It was necessary to see them bend, not just hear word of it. She knew that, and Aegon particularly needed to know that too.

For a moment, everything was quiet as people sipped their wine, and then Aegon spoke, his voice hard and almost cold … he had that way about him, the ability to fly off the handle in a fire like fury, and then speak with a coldness to his voice that almost made her shiver. It was intimidating; but that was good. He would need to be authoritative, to be in charge, to give off the aura that not only did he have the claim but he had the makings of a King, and so she approved as he took the lead in the meeting, and acted like a King.

"We are here to discuss the crimes of one Petyr Baelish" He said, "Vary's has already given evidence to his crimes, but we must hear from Sansa Stark, to get a better picture of what happened in the Eyrie, then we will convict him, and then return to the Eyrie to see Robert Arryn bend the knee" He said with a nod of his head, and then all eyes turned to Sansa, though Jon spoke first.

Oh Jon, so different from Aegon, humble, rougher around the edges and yet he too had the makings for a good King. He was strong, a better swordsman than most, legendary with a blade, and so brave, fearless almost. He was a Northern King though that was clear. "Sansa has agreed she wants to speak to what she endured under Baelish, however no one is to press her" His tone was harsh, it was clear this was not a point to be argued, "She will speak as much as she wishes, and no more, understood?" He too had the authority of a King. Neither wore crowns that was true, but they would both soon, they both had what it took to be good King's, and Daenery's felt her heart glow with pride. They would both be good, and she would be there to stand with them.

Everyone nodded in turn, no one wanted to upset Sansa Stark, not when she looked meek sat next to Jon even if her eyes were laced with steel. Daenery's could sense a strength to her, and yet she had clearly endured much. They had a fractured picture of it; the atrocities in King's Landing, followed by her escape, but they knew nothing past that. Now the gaps would be filled in, and yet they would not force her to detail everything, anyone who tried would surely meet Jon's fury. Yet they had to be practical, they needed to know about what had happened at the Vale, and thankfully Sansa seemed determined to tell them.

"It's alright Jon" She spoke up however, and she smiled timidly at her cousin, though it was clear they still viewed one another as siblings. She took a dep breath then, but nodded her head "I can give you an idea of what happened, but also speak to Baelish's crimes specifically, honour demands he be brought to justice" She nodded then, and Daenery's felt her shoulder tense, this would not be easy.

And so, Sansa began to weave a tapestry of what had happened to her. How Baelish had smuggled her out of King's Landing, taken her to the Eyrie for her protection, had her masquerade as his bastard daughter to ensure her safety. How he had killed Lysa both to protect her and secure control of the Eyrie as Regent. How he had planned for her to marry Harrold Hardying and kill off Robin Arryn, to ensure the Eyrie would rally around her taking the North and the Riverland's, how he would then kill Harrold and marry her himself, securing three of seven kingdoms under his rule in one move. It was sinister, horrific, and yet it was a genius plan one had to admit, or would have been a genius plan, had so much not gone wrong.

Harrold Hardying had died a week before the wedding, a tourney accident of all things. Of how they had heard about Jon retaking the North, and the landing of the Targaryen's, of how Baelish had kept more and more from her, but had clearly still meant to marry her, to keep her in the Vale. Daenery's heard Sansa's voice grow thicker with tears as each sentence passed, and saw the girl begin to shake. However, she brushed off Jon when he tried to insist, she needed to stop, and continued on; clearly, she wanted and needed to get this out. She spoke of how scared she had been that Baelish would marry her, how he had forced kisses on her and had hinted there was more to come. That was the hardest to hear, and the information that spurred the most reactions. Tyrion looked furious, Jon had let out a growl and broke the handle of his chair, and Aegon hadn't moved for about a minute, but his eyes spoke of his cold fury. No one interrupted however, as Sansa continued.

She spoke of how they had heard the Targaryen's were coming and Baelish had made it clear he had no plans to reveal her; that was when she had realised what she had to do, hence her mad dash at Jon in the courtyard, and now they were here. She stopped then, the Northern girl, and bowed her head, clearly finished, and silence fell across the room for a moment, minutes ticked by in the tense silence, before both Jon and Aegon tried to speak at once.

"I…" Aegon began.

"I…" Jon began. However, the former nodded his head in acquisition and Jon continued. "I shall take his head" His gaze was fierce, and he had reached out and took his cousins hand. "Honour demands it, I shall swing the sword" He said, and there was clearly no room for argument. He did however look for the approval of his brother; this was technically Aegon's jurisdiction, but he nodded; no one would deny Jon this right. And Aegon and Jon would never try to order one another, never. It didn't matter if they were below the Neck or above it, they would always respect one another in such a way.

"Agreed brother" Aegon spoke, his tone too was as cold as winter, evidently, he was furious. That was a key difference between the brothers; Jon when angry was like the sun, furious, fiery, but Aegon? His hot Targaryen temper often got the better of him yes, but more often his anger was displayed in a cold fury, that was often more terrifying. It also had Daenery's raising an eyebrow. She understood the general injustice of this had Aegon upset, and he was mad on Jon's behalf too, but his reaction was a little much for such a situation. She would need to keep an eye on that she realised, a close eye indeed.

"Bring the brothel keeper to just outside the tent" Aegon spoke to Greyworm and he nodded, gave Jon a nod too before heading outside.

"You should burn him alive" Daenery's spoke up then, she had remained quiet, though she certainly wished to speak to Sansa later, she sensed the girl could use some female companionship, and a girl who meant so much to Jon was someone she needed to befriend. She had already made fast friends with Bran and Rickon, she would do the same with Sansa. "Make him feel the pain of his flesh melting from his bones, make him feel the pain Sansa felt when he tried to trap her" She said, her voice harsh, a glint of fury in her eye, but she was serious.

Sansa looked a little unsettled at that, though she offered a smile. Jon however shook his head, and Sansa followed. "No" Jon spoke, but Sansa spoke next.

"The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword" Sansa, more passionate than before … she looked less downtrodden at least. Daenery's suspected speaking of what had happened to her had helped, hopefully now she could rebuild her self-confidence, and make peace with her past. "That is the code us of the North follow" She said with a nod of her head, and she caught Jon smiling at her. Daenery's nodded in defeat, Northerner's were indeed strange, and yet she wouldn't argue their method of punishment, not when Sansa more than anyone deserved to decide the Brothel Keeper's fate.

Greyworm appeared again then, but there was no need for him to speak, they could hear a dragging sound and then the cursing of Littlefinger outside. And so, they all stood, Jon took Sansa's hand, and Daenery's followed Aegon. It was time to see justice done, and then they could move on.

* * *

It had been hard, extremely hard to speak of, there was no denying that. And yet somehow, she felt lighter … like a weight had left her shoulders. For so long everything had been secretive, she had been suffering alone, but now? Now she was safe… she was free of Petyr's grip and the oppressiveness of the Eyrie, and she would see justice done. Sansa felt lighter than she had in months … years. Yes, there was still a lot of mending to do, a lot of nightmares would still come she was sure, but it was better than before, much better, and that was more than she could ask for.

As they walked outside her hand clasped in Jon's, Sansa did feel safe. Yes, it was all a bit sudden, and it would take a while to adjust, but here she knew she had nothing to fear. She had Jon; Jon would protect her. Tyrion too; he had always been kind to her, always tried to take care of her. And then there were the Targaryen's (though she supposed Jon counted as one now too, that was one of the strangest things of all, seeing them all together; she would always regard him as a Stark, like her), they intimidated her yes, and yet they seemed kind, and the way Aegon had spoken to her … she thought he would make a good King, she hoped he would.

"Are you alright?" Jon interrupted her thoughts and Sansa managed a nod. She certainly felt shaken up and yet it was good, it was the feeling of being … free, free of the weight of what had happened to her. There was still much healing to do, but this was the first step, and though she felt drained it was good, it truly was. She felt stronger.

"I am Jon" She said with a small smile, "As long as I'm here, I am good" She said, and he smiled back; god, how had she ever been cruel to him? He was her brother, whether in name or not, and always would be. She would never turn from him again.

"Well then" He said, as the tent flaps were pulled back, and she nodded; it was time.

They walked outside, and though technically this was part of Aegon's territory he had clearly relented control of this situation to Jon. She liked that, that he didn't seem power hungry, this new Targaryen King. He seemed kind, if perhaps quite ruthless and arrogant. He was certainly handsome. She couldn't help but think he'd make a good King, and she looked over at him again. This time he didn't notice and so she just stared at him for a moment, before dropping her gaze. There were more important things at hand now.

Particularly Petyr, who they were approaching and then came to a stop in front of. He was thrashing and trying to curse, but someone had gagged him. His eyes were wildly looking around before settling on her. She felt the clench in her stomach of fear, but found it abated quite quickly. He could do nothing to her here, nothing at all. He had no power here. She was safe from him now, and she found something akin to a smirk come across her features. She need not fear him anymore.

"Jon" She said gently, and he nodded at her, now it was time, to see justice carried out.

The block was set in place as Jon stepped forward and unsheathed Longclaw from his belt. Petyr went wild at that, thrashing all the more, screaming in fear and horror, and with each scream Sansa felt all fear abate, they had the power here, not him.

"Petyr Baelish" Jon spoke, his tone formal now, the tone of a true King, Sansa felt pride bloom in her chest, "You have been convicted of treason, of murder, bribery, corruption, robbery, and a whole host of other crimes. A trial has not been deemed necessary due to the overwhelming evidence" He said, in truth there should have been a trial, but not for this man, not after all he'd done. "My brother Aegon of House Targaryen, fifth of his name, King of the Andals, protector of the Six Kingdoms and defender of the South, and I, Jon of Houses Stark and Targaryen, first of my name, King of the First Men, protector and defender of the North, do find you guilty and so justice shall be dealt" He said, "Any last words?" He asked, with a nod for Greywind to remove the man's gag.

"Please! No, no!" He screamed the second he could speak, and Sansa flinched, but forced herself to remain in place. He could not hurt her now, that was all she had to remind herself, though it was hard as her gaze met his and she felt herself tremble. "Sansa! Please, please!" He seemed so scared himself now but that gave her strength, "Please don't do this! This is wrong, I am entitled to a trial! Sansa please, please. I saved you! I rescued you! I took you from the Lannister's!" He screamed, and yet she did nothing, she would do nothing, and instead she simply turned to look at Jon and nod her head, to which he did too, before bringing the sword down and silencing her oppressor once and for all.

Silence descended across them all, and Sansa found herself letting out a deep breath she had not known she was holding. It was done, he was gone, she was safe. Her entire body seemed to relax, months of tension expelled, and she found herself leaning on Jon to remain standing. It was done, she was safe, that was all she could think.

"We return to the Eyrie in one hour" Aegon spoke, and she felt Jon nod, but didn't respond herself, her head was spinning with relief now, it was almost too much, the utter relief that drained her so. He was gone, he was gone.

"Come on Sansa" Jon spoke, his voice gentle as he walked them to one of the tents, "You're safe, you're safe, you need to rest" She could only nod in response.

He was gone, she was safe … he was gone, she was safe.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts? 
> 
> hope you enjoyed, as always comments and the like are hugely appreciated
> 
> speak soon


	4. Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is, the last pre-written, pre-edited chapter. chap 5 is almost finished so wanted to get this up. 
> 
> hope you enjoy and I'd love to know your thoughts on this pairing as a whole, lemme know if you like/love/hate/curious? lets find out!
> 
> songrecs: let you love me - rita ora (acoustic sets on yt fit best)

An hour or so passed before Jon approached her. Sansa had been sitting in Jon's tent, an extra crib had been brought in for her by one of the guards, and she had been sat on it for an hour, looking into space, thinking, contemplating, her mind far, far away. It was something she'd often do in the Vale, be far away in thought before someone dragged her back. Only in the Vale her thoughts had been dreams of home, of her family, now they weren't dreams, they were memories that she thought of, as her gaze drifted.

She thought of Joffrey, of his cruel sneer, his cowardly expression when confronted, his idiot guards. She thought of his death, of him tumbling down the steps, hand clutching his throat, face purple, drool at his chin. She thought of his eyes, like glass, open, not blinking, open and wide, full of fear in his last moment. He had died in agony, in fear, and Cersei had wept over his body. She thought then of Cersei, of her pain, of her tears, of Cersei screaming her name, as she ran from King's Landing. She thought of her Aunt Lysa, her screams as she fell through the moon door, growing fainter and fainter. And then she thought of Petyr, of his crying, of his head rolling to the floor.

She should have been crying perhaps, or horrified. But instead she smiled.

He was gone, he was gone, and he could not hurt her anymore, he would never hurt her again. And so, as she sat on her bed, just gazing into the distance she was smiling, a little smirk on her features. She was safe, most of her enemies were gone, and yet she still stood.

She knew it would take time to heal, time to get back to herself, but the journey had started, that was the most important bit.

She turned her head as Jon entered the tent and offered him a tentative smile. It was good to be back with him and she could not wait to see Bran and Rickon. She hoped they would find Arya too, and then the remains of the Stark pack would be back together. Sansa Stark was back, Alayne Stone was gone, gone forever. It almost felt like a death and Sansa took a second to mourn for the girl before coming back to herself and turning to Jon.

"Is it time?" She asked simply, though fear knotted in her stomach again. They needed to return to the Eyrie to see them bend the knee, she understood that, but she had no desire to ever step foot in the Vale again.

"Aye" Jon said with a nod, "You want to stay here?" He asked with a smile, Sansa was a good liar, she had been under Cersei's twisted mentorship and Petyr's tutelage, but Jon could still see through her.

"Yes please" She said, and Jon laughed to which she rolled her eyes.

"Stay in the tent, I'll have one of Greyworm's most trusted, Blackrain guard you. If you need to leave take him and go no further than the main tent" He said with a serious look at her to which she nodded before he made to leave. However, she jumped and grabbed his arm, to which he paused.

"Jon wait" She said before biting down on her lip as he turned back to her. "I … I just wanted to apologise properly" She said with a determined nod of her head, "I was awful to you in Winterfell and I am truly sorry, can you forgive me?"

"Sansa there is no need…" He began but she shook her head, a determined expression on her face.

"Forgive me" She insisted to which Jon laughed.

"Aye alright I forgive you" To that Sansa smiled, and pulled him into a hug. They hugged for a moment before she let him go.

"Okay" She said with a little nod, "I'll see you soon"

"You will" Jon said as though it was a promise, and perhaps it was. Either way it made her smile and feel a little more relaxed that he had to leave. "We may be a while, but we'll sup together tonight or perhaps break fast on the morrow if you want to sleep"

Sansa nodded and then Jon was gone. She glanced outside to see a man stood rigid at the left of the entrance to the tent. This must be Blackrain. He nodded at her as she looked at him and she felt oddly reassured. Jon wouldn't leave her with a guard that would hurt her, she knew that, and so she stepped back into the tent, and she still felt safe. It was a good feeling; a comforting feeling and it was no surprise that within minutes of climbing onto her bed with the aim to simply relax she was out like a light.

* * *

God it had been hours. He wanted nothing more than to climb onto Viserion, plummet down below and go to sleep. Dark had long settled over the Eyrie, and though the days were shorter thanks to the long winter they were now enduring he was sure it had gone dark hours ago.

He had wanted this over quickly, and yet it had not. First, they had to explain the situation with Baelish to the Vale, before rooting out his men. Then thankfully little Robin Arryn had bent the knee without complaint but had cried and screamed that he wanted 'his Alayne' back (and why Aegon felt annoyed at that he chose not to question or look too closely at), before a young woman had hurried him inside. They had to wait a while for a suitable Lord to be brought up to the Eyrie, but it had been a worthwhile wait when Lord Royce of Runestone had been named Regent by the other Lords until Robin was of age. Now they were simply sifting through the final details of the treaty.

Aegon knew he needed to learn to be patient, but this was beyond the pale. He couldn't help that he felt formalities such as this were pointless. They had known before they'd even landed in Westeros that the Vale would bend, so why all the pomp and circumstance? Aegon knew it was necessary, the 'Southern' way of doing things, but it was tedious all the same.

He knew Jon felt the same way, and he felt on edge, his gaze constantly flickering to the door. But whereas Aegon wanted to escape to do something more useful he knew Jon wanted to check on Sansa. Oddly Aegon had that same urge, but again tried not to think about it.

Yet, he did think of her gaze, he couldn't help himself. He was stuck on those eyes, they had such depth and yet he sensed there was more to them, a wall in place currently closing him off. Part of him wanted to break past that wall … though he knew that was not wise.

He should not strike too close a friendship with Sansa Stark, it was not sensible. She would go North soon with her brother and eventually marry some Northern Lord. He would go South and marry a Southern Lady. There was little point lingering on her.

And so, he tried to shut her out of his mind, it was just those eyes, and the flash of a smile he had seen, those were the things that remained imprinted in his mind. The steel that had threaded her gaze before Petyr's execution was also at the forefront of his brain. He'd felt proud of her, which was not a reaction he should have had. He was not sure why he was reacting to her like this.

"Aegon" He was snapped out of his thoughts but gave no indication he hadn't been listening. Thankfully, he nodded and that seemed to be the right thing to do, though Dany shot him a look that he knew she didn't buy it.

"I believe we are done gentleman" Dany spoke, and they all rose. Aegon stood last with Jon and the Lords of the Vale bent the head to him, as well as Jon out of respect. Soon the hall was empty, and they walked back outside, the last Kingdom conquered. As tiresome as it had been Aegon was grinning as were Dany and Jon. They had done it, they had conquered, now it was time to rule.

"So, the next thing will be your coronation Aegon" Dany said with a nod of her head, "Jon you already had yours correct?"

"If you count the Northmen chanting my name and proclaiming me King in the North then aye" Jon said with a cheeky grin to which Dany rolled her eyes and made to swat him.

"Aegon, we'll hold yours in the Throne Room, or perhaps the Sept?" Dany said chewing on her lip, and Aegon smiled at her, a smile of indulgence.

"I think the Throne Room" He said, "Though it won't be the same without Jon there" He said, shooting his brother a look, to which Jon laughed and Dany pouted.

"You're right" Dany said with a nod.

"Ouch Dany" Aegon laughed, "How did that feel to say?"

"Like vinegar" Dany spat back which sent both brothers' laughing and Dany shaking her head before she spoke again.

"Jon are you sure you can't come? We can celebrate our victories! One last celebration before you return North?"

Jon shook his head initially but Aegon could tell he was waning on it, and one last look from Dany had him crumbling.

"Fine" He said and Dany grinned, Aegon clapped his brother on the shoulder. It would be good to have him present and to spend a little more time with him. It cheered him up from the boredom of the meeting actually and as they reached their dragons he was grinning.

"I'll have to see Sansa settled first though" Jon said, with a shrug of his shoulders to which Aegon felt a prickle of annoyance at the words, speaking now before he could stop himself.

"Bring her" Aegon said with a nod, he didn't catch the look Dany threw him, a look that screamed 'what is going on here?'. He was focused as Jon shook his head.

"She won't go to King's Landing" Jon said, "Guarantee it"

"She should" Aegon continued, reaching Viserion and patting his companion on the side. "It would be good for her to see it, get some closure, and perhaps you can stay for the trials, surely Lady Sansa would like to see Cersei's head roll?" He said and Dany laughed at that as she mounted Drogon. He and Jon followed suit, and Jon seemed to consider what he had said.

He paused, "I'll ask her" Jon said, and Aegon nodded, feeling a sense of relief for some reason.

He did not want to investigate too closely the feelings he was having in regard to Sansa. He did not want to think of them for the moment, and so with a smile he plummeted down to ground again, he felt cheered … for more reasons than one.

* * *

Sansa woke and it was light out. She shielded her eyes from the light as she sat up in bed. For a moment she felt panic, and her hand flew to her chest. She looked around frantically before she realised, she was in her tent, the night before had not been a dream. Petyr Baelish was dead, and she was safe. As soon as she recognised those facts she calmed down quickly, even smiled a little. It hadn't been a dream! She was truly safe, she was with Jon, she was okay.

She had also slept for a while it seemed. Jon's bed had been slept in and he was gone. She often didn't sleep for too long but perhaps it was months of poor sleep catching up to her? She had also only achieved a handful of hours of rest the night before, it made sense she needed to rest for longer, she guessed that was why Jon hadn't woken her up. Still she had slept for long enough and pulled herself out of bed, Jon had said they could break fast together and it seemed early enough to still be able to do that, and so she needed to get ready.

She hesitated however, she had no new clothes, and yet she noticed a dress and cloak hanging on the back of a chair in the tent. Approaching she saw the clothes must have belonged to Daenerys. They were fairly modest, though she could do without the twin cuts on either side of the skirt, though she supposed she'd just wear her petticoat underneath so not to show her legs. Sansa liked to dress modestly, she'd never be the kind to wear plunging necklines or backless gowns, but this seemed suitable. It was a deep blue which Sansa appreciated, blue, alongside purple was one of her favourite colours.

She made use of the bowl of water to wash and quickly dressed. A set of small clothes had been left for her, and she changed into those, but had to put on yesterday's petticoat, thankfully it was clean. Next, she pulled on the dress. It fit well, though it was a little loose in the chest and a tad short at the ankle it still felt okay. It was better than wearing yesterday stuff. It was a deep blue, with scales embossed on the arms and gold twirling around the bodice in ribbons made of scales. The cuts were designed to expose her legs a little but instead they exposed her inner white skirt. It looked a little odd but not too bad She slipped her feet into her slippers (white also), before tugging the cloak someone had left her round her shoulders. The cloak was a deep grey, and light, trailing onto the floor, and yet it was comfortable, and had a hood if need be. With a little nod to herself she walked outside.

It was light out, but the sky was grey and there was a chill in the air. There was more of a hustle and bustle around camp now and Sansa couldn't help but feel a little nervous. She felt calmer as Blackrain approached her, and as she took a step to the main tent he followed. She probably should have just carried on but instead she turned back to him.

"Blackrain isn't it?" She asked and he simply nodded so she continued, "Are you my permanent guard?" She asked, and again he nodded. "Don't you need to sleep?"

"No my Lady" His accent was thick but he sounded kind which reassured her, "I sleep little and have already had my sleep" He spoke the common tongue but not well it was clear, "I will protect you".

"Well, thank you" Sansa said with a small smile, and he nodded again. She felt the urge to nod back and did so before making her way to the main tent. She felt safer with him by her side. If Petyr were here now, she knew Blackrain wouldn't let him near her, that comforted her.

Soon she entered the main tent, and it was quieter in here. There was a long table set up. Aegon sat in the middle with Jon next to him on the right who was opposite Greyworm. Dany sat on Aegon's left with Tyrion opposite. She realised she could either sit alone or opposite Aegon. Oddly, she felt nervous about sitting opposite him, but she tried to remember he was supposed to be a good King. She may never trust a Southern King again, but she could at least give him a chance. Jon seemed to like him, and she felt Jon was a good judge of character. She also couldn't deny the effect his gaze had, had on her … it had made her mouth feel dry, and her own eyes widen, unable to look away. She tried to shake those thoughts away as she took a step forward.

"Sansa" Jon said in greeting standing to his feet, "We're just about to break fast" He said with a smile.

"Should I move my Lady?" Greyworm asked and Sansa shook her head with a smile.

"No need Greyworm" She said kindly, before turning to look at Blackrain, "Blackrain please join us, sit next to your brother" The Unsullied guard looked a trifle shocked at that and Sansa almost laughed, it was a far departure from his usual stoic expression, but ne nodded and took a seat. She missed Dany's approving smile and Tyrion's smirk.

And so, Sansa made her way around to sit opposite Aegon. She felt nervous and she didn't know why. It was nothing to do with him being a King, it was something else, something she couldn't quite identify.

But she tried to ignore it as she sat, and servants brought around food and drink. She declined the wine, taking water and filling her plate with fruit, breads and a lemon cake or two. She looked at Jon as she noticed those, and he grinned at her before returning to his food and his conversation with Greyworm and now Blackrain. Dany was chatting happily to Tyrion about the Faith but Aegon was quiet, looking down at his plate. She remained quiet too, more at ease now, before Aegon spoke.

"Lady Sansa" His voice was a weird mixture of the Westerosi lilt, and the accent of the East, but he spoke clear and well, his voice was warm as well and again Sansa felt her mouth go dry. "I hope you slept well?" He asked and Sansa nodded, before he continued, "Good, I hope you are comfortable, if you lack anything you need don't hesitate to make it known" For some reason those words made her cheeks feel a little warm and she dipped her gaze hoping he didn't notice, though the slight twitch to his mouth told her he had.

"Thank you, Your Grace" She said lifting her gaze again, feeling a little bolder for some reason, "But I am quite comfortable, and besides I will be home soon, I will have all I need there"

"Of course," He retorted and again Sansa felt a little warm, she wasn't sure why. Her gaze met his again and they both fell silent for a moment, their gaze's locked. Her blue to his violet. The air felt a little charged and she gulped as she noticed his jaw tighten a touch.

"Though Jon may wish to talk to you about that" He said then, breaking the moment in which Sansa broke their gaze. Why on earth was she feeling like this? All flustered and a little unsettled. And yet it wasn't a bad feeling, not at all, it was strange and not entirely welcome.

"Talk to me about what?" She asked, her eyes widening as she thought about his words, forgetting all courtesy then, though that seemed to please him as he grinned a little, not that she focused on that. Instead she focused on his words. Why wouldn't she be returning home? He however did not elaborate, and she turned to Jon who had overheard them and shook his head, and she felt herself calm.

"Don't be alarmed Sansa" He shot his brother a glare, "Just a discussion from yesterday" He said with a nod before eating another piece of bacon. She noticed he ate with his fingers and Sansa knew she'd need to admonish him on that, he was a King he needed to have some semblance of manners … though she noted Aegon did the same. Daenery's however ate with a fork, she wondered if the Dragon Queen had tried to hammer manners into them and had failed.

"What discussion?" She asked, probing further and Jon let out a small sigh.

"Thanks brother" He said, and she noticed Aegon smirk again with a shrug which she did not like and could not stop her glare, which he certainly caught and only grew his smirk.

"Sansa" She tore her gaze back to Jon, "Aegon and Dany asked me to attend Aegon's coronation" He said simply, and Sansa nodded that made sense, so why would that affect her? She realised then as Jon paused and she felt her blood run a little cold, felt those knots tie in her stomach again. No, no, absolutely not.

"No" She said out loud not meaning to, and she noticed Aegon's smirk disappear. At that she stood to her feet, the cutlery clattering a little to which she winced. "I apologise" She said, remembering her courtesies, her courtesies had always protected her. "I need some air, excuse my Lords, Lady, Your Grace" She said before she stepped back and hurried outside. She heard someone follow but she did not look back, instead she dipped around the side of the tent.

She felt two dominant emotions. She felt angry, angry at Aegon's smirk. He had clearly set this up for whatever reason, and she hated him a little for that. She also felt scared and she knew that was why she was overreacting, she was frightened. She did not want to set foot in King's Landing ever again and she knew it was her fear that had her hating Aegon and feeling the main hall. She felt like her stomach was twisting and turning, and she was pacing now as she saw the last person she wanted to see turn the corner.

* * *

Well he felt like an asshole.

And certainly, everyone else thought that as they all turned to glare at him as Sansa left. She didn't storm out, no, she apologised and walked swiftly but did not storm. He had to admire her self-control, her courtesies, but he felt bad for forcing her to use them. Of course, he felt bad, he had pushed a little bit too far and now she was upset. He knew he shouldn't feel this bad, or this big of an urge to go after her, she was no one too him! And yet he did care for some reason and as Jon stood, he stood too, though his brother glared at him as he did. Blackrain had rose too, until Jon shook his head and the Unsullied nodded and sat back down.

"Let me go" He said, raising his hands in surrender and taking a step towards the tent flap. "I messed this up, let me fix it" Jon seemed to hesitate before nodding and again he noticed that look from Dany which he dutifully ignored before making his way outside. Though he did not miss Tyrion's 'Be nice' yelled at him before he stepped outside.

He noticed she was gone, and it was a long walk to her tent so she could have only gone right or left. He chanced left and he was pleased to see he had been right. He was not pleased to see her pacing back and forth, her hair a mess from where she had evidently ran her hands through it, and said hands shaking. He felt worse than, a deep guilt in his stomach. He had to make this right, he didn't know why he felt such a need to fix things, to protect Lady Sansa but he did, and so he would.

"Lady Sansa" He spoke, and she turned to look at him, she glared, and he almost laughed. Now her courtesies were gone, but he preferred that. He did laugh as she crossed her arms and her glare hardened to which he raised his hands again. "I apologise for upsetting you"

Sansa nodded her head then, her glare dying, and she took a step back. For a moment Aegon could dare hope it had been that easy, but no. He saw her walls were in place, and he resisted the urge to let out a sigh.

"I am truly sorry" He said, moving to lean against the tent pole, "I put you on the spot, hoping it would encourage you to come, as I'd like you at my coronation" He said simply. Aegon was an honest person and he could see his honest explanation had her taken back a little, those walls seemed to drop a little at least and so Aegon continued on.

"It was wrong of me to do that" His smile left him then and he was more sincere. He had been wrong to put her on the spot like that. Aegon was ruthless when it came to getting what he wanted and usually he didn't feel bad in doing so, but with Sansa he felt bad, he really did, even though he barely knew her. She had an alarming effect on his emotions, something he would confront later, for now he just wanted to make her feel better.

"I cannot return to King's Landing" She replied, and he nodded his head, which again surprised her, though she seemed to be a little warmer to him, taking a step closer without even realising so.

"I understand" He said taking a step closer too. "If I were you, I wouldn't want to either" He paused then, another step closer, this time by both of them. "But I would go"

"Why?" Her voice was a whisper now, and their gazes had met again. Blue to purple, locked on to one another.

"Because, it will make you stronger" His voice was lower then, and again she took a step closer. She was close enough now he could reach for her, and he did, but only her hands. She looked a little bewildered at such a gesture but accepted it all the same, though her hands shook a little in his.

"What if I'm not strong enough in the first place?" She whispered and he shook his head.

"I think you are" He said simply, and he saw the naked fear in her eyes then, her eyes that were now clouded with tears. He hated himself for being the one to put them there, and yet if that meant she would face her fears and come out stronger … he would accept that. "And if you're not you'll have Jon, and Tyrion, and Blackrain by your side" Another pause, "And me"

"I don't even know you" She responded, but she didn't remove her hands from his grasp, if anything she leaned in a little closer.

"I know" He said, his thumb smoothing over her skin then, "And I'd like to rectify that"

There was a smile from her, and a small nod, and for a moment they just stood, stood with hands held, gazes locked, until Sansa spoke.

"I'll come" And Aegon smiled, and they remained for a moment more.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so thoughts? 
> 
> lemme know if you liked, I've got big plans for this fic and always love your feedback!
> 
> also ain't they just the cutest? :x
> 
> speak soon


	5. Ghost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hereee we go. 
> 
> I squealed at this chapter, lemme know if you do too ><
> 
> srsly, hope you enjoy!
> 
> songrecs: two weeks - fka twigs

Most royal parties would arrive at Kings Landing with a procession. She remembered when she had first arrived at the Capitol, sat in a carriage with Arya, her father on horseback in front of them, rows of soldiers proudly displaying the direwolf banner. The King and his men had ridden in front of them, with the stag banner held high. It had all felt very regal and she felt very self-important as she waved to the common people and grinned at people who shouted the Stark name. Arya had pulled faces and craned her neck to see the famous Street of Steel, uncaring about simpering common folk and royal parades. But to Sansa it had felt like a dream come true.

The procession this time as the walls of the Capitol loomed was a little different to the last.

The Targaryen banner was proudly displayed as the small company of Unsullied and soldiers marched through the walls, but there was hardly enough for a march. There was only one carriage and no noble men or women on horseback. The King did not sit atop a horse at the front as King Robert had, and yet even though the party that made its way through the gates was less than impressive, the spectacle in the air more than made up for it.

Viserion was at the front of the pack, with Drogon just off to his left and then Rhaegal further back but still close. They made a loosely formed arrow shape and the people of Kings Landing gasped and watched in awe as they flew over the city.

Aegon sat atop Viserion, windswept, in black and red Targaryen leathers, looking like a true King, the picture of a strong Targaryen leader. Compared to Robert? Compared to Joffrey and Tommen? There was no contest. The small folk and even the minor Lords and Ladies in attendance were enraptured by him, watched in awe as he flew at the front, resplendent, beautiful.

Daenerys sat on Drogon, the larger dragon, and she wore Targaryen black, no red, with her dragon necklace at her throat. Drogon roared as they flew ahead, Aegon may be the leader of the humans of Westeros but Drogon would always lead the dragons. Daenerys looked most at ease on her dragon, so sure she'd never fall, for she had bonded with Drogon as a rider long before the others had with theirs.

Jon looked good to, if a little more uncomfortable. He wore plain clothes as he often did and was less showy, always so serious and refusing to embrace anything flashy or full of pageantry. The small folk liked him though, for he was a King himself, and his stoic attitude and brooding expression certainly won over the ladies. She almost laughed as she heard the names being shouted, Aegon was just ahead in the screams of adoration, though Jon was a close second.

She had been offered a spot behind Jon on his dragon and even Aegon had offered her a place, the only time they'd properly spoken since he had asked her to come to his coronation but she had refused both. She hadn't told anyone, but she hated heights, always had, and though flying a dragon was an adventure for most, for her it made her want to vomit. And so, she took her place in the carriage, surrounded by Unsullied and other guards.

She didn't wave out the window this time or engage with the small folk. She honestly hadn't even looked out of the sliding window, she didn't want to see Kings Landing, not yet. She had been trembling slightly ever since they had passed the walls and had been working hard not to turn around and demand Blackrain hurry her back to Winterfell. At least the company in the carriage didn't make her nervous, for it was odd company to keep.

Varys and Tyrion sat opposite her, commenting on the state of the Capitol, discussing the newly renovated dragon pit where the Targaryen's and Jon (always a Stark in her eyes) would no doubt land. They seemed to talk a lot through their eyes, communicating without saying words. She recognised that, recognised that before her sat two of the most important players of the game of thrones. She knew she was sat with two of the most powerful men in the country, she also knew if Littlefinger hadn't been a traitor he likely would have sat with them.

Powerful men … once it had been Tywin Lannister, Jon Arryn, noble Lords of fierce houses, now sat a dwarf and a eunuch and they were perhaps the 3rd and 4th most powerful men in the country. How times did change.

"How are you Lady Sansa?" Tyrion spoke then and she offered him a smile, for he had always been kind of her and she knew he understood how hard this was for her, why she had to force herself to stop shaking, now she was back in the wretched place she had once hoped never to see again.

"Fine" She replied though, Littlefinger had taught her many things in his tutelage and one had been _never_ to betray weakness. She knew not to take all of his lessons to heart, and she'd never be as politically involved as he had been, would never thirst for power in the way he had, but she had picked up things from him, things she would use to keep herself and her family safe if she needed to. With the courtesies she had developed in Kings Landing ever present she betrayed little, even her shaking stopped as Tyrion looked at her in worry.

' _I am a Stark; I can be brave'_

"Fine, my Lord" She repeated and nodded, both looked at her then, not in pity as she had expected but if anything they were a little curious, it made sense, she wasn't the girl she had once been. Sure, there was some of the old Sansa left but Littlefinger had changed her, even if she hadn't wished him to do so.

"How are things here now?" She asked then, wanting to move the topic along, to stop them looking at her in such a way, to stop them dissecting what Littlefinger had made her … even she didn't know that. "The smallfolk seem happy at least"

"Indeed" Varys said, and smiled at her in a funny sort of way, as though he could see what she was doing, could understand her, and though Sansa wasn't fearful of the eunuch she did shiver a little, he had a way about him, a gentleness that masked the true power he held. She could see it now and she could tell he knew she could see it, and if anything, that made him smile at her more. "With new trade from Essos and peace in the kingdoms, our King has ensured the people are well fed again"

"The smallfolk care for little else" Tyrion said ruefully, "As long as they are fed, they'll support whoever gave them the food"

"A full belly eases many qualms" Sansa said, and again the two men glanced at her as though to analyse her, "Just something my old Maester used to say" They nodded then, and Sansa dropped her gaze. This was an odd situation, an unsettling one, she knew the men were scrutinising her, wishing to know what she had learned in Littlefingers tutelage, it made her uncomfortable, and for what felt like the 100th time that day she was regretting agreeing to come to the Capitol.

And why had she come? Because Aegon Targaryen with his unfaltering honesty, charming smile and brave gaze had asked her. Because he had riled her up and then calmed her just enough to get her to agree to it. Because he had suggested she was strong enough … few men told her she was strong, she couldn't help but feel proud when one did. She was sure he had done so intentionally, to get her to come, though she wasn't sure why he had wanted her to come, he had clearly tried hard enough.

' _Men only want one thing from a pretty girl'_

She shook Shae's voice from her head, why had Aegon asked her to come? She could see him desiring her, she wasn't unaware of her beauty but there had to be more to it than that. He couldn't hope to marry her, not only would she refuse to ever live in the Capitol, but she wasn't a politically good match, not even under his rule! He'd likely marry Margaery or perhaps Arianna of Dorne or even some minor Lady to placate the Stormlands. So why did he want her here? It was one thing she couldn't figure out and it was bothering her.

She was usually good at figuring people's intentions out, especially now. She read people well, and yet she couldn't get a hold on the new King. It unsettled her more than the eunuch's inquisitive gaze or Tyrion's curious expression.

"We're almost here" Tyrion said as the carriage slowed, and Sansa felt her heartrate thud. The streets of Kings Landing she had avoided at had been bad enough, this would be worse. The Red Keep would be worse. "Are you alright Lady Sansa?" Tyrion asked again, for he knew what she had experienced here, knew what horrors she had faced, knew how hard this must be for her.

"Yes, my Lord" Was all she replied, it would be hard and she was sure tonight she would sob into her pillow, would scream at herself for being caught be Aegon Targaryen's pretty words and lovely smile, she would berate herself for coming to the place that had been her prison for years. But for now? For now, she would be strong, she would show strength, she would not cower.

' _Wolves are supposed to be brave, aren't they?'_

Damn right they were, she could be, no she _would be_ brave. She held onto that resolve as the doors of the carriage opened, and the Red Keep loomed overhead. She held onto it as she stepped out, as the people of Kings Landing screamed the Stark, Targaryen, and Lannister names. She held onto it as she saw the steps to the prison that had once trapped her. She only faltered, but not in fear, rather shock and then disbelief and then a twinge of pleasure she tried to suppress, she only faltered when she saw him, still windswept from his dragon, arm held out for her, wicked smile on his face, ready to escort her, as he had promised. It was then she faltered, and her determined gaze melted into something of a smile and she ascended the steps easier than she had hoped.

' _King Aegon! Lady Sansa!'_ They called, but even though she hadn't spoken to him in days, even though she was mad at him for bringing her here, even though she was mad at herself for falling it … she felt the screams of the smallfolk fade away, she missed the significant look Varys and Lord Tyrion exchanged and she just focused on him as he smiled and leaned forward to whisper in her ear.

"I told you, you could do it" He whispered, and she smiled again, which mirrored his. In that moment she forgot the horror of this place, and as the doors opened and she stepped inside she didn't tremble, shake, or falter, she walked in at his side, strong, head held high, a picture at his side.

' _King Aegon! Lady Sansa!'_ They screamed, as the doors shut behind them and she walked with the King.

* * *

"It's inevitable" At that she rolled her eyes, and shot her most trusted advisor a glare, he raised his hands in defeat but her other most trusted advisor gave her a look that spoke to his belief and she realised she was outnumbered.

"Why do you say so?" She asked. The Capitol was not quite how she had imagined it, the smell for one had already convinced her a large public works project was sorely needed, and the state of some of the districts was abysmal but she had seen worse in Slavers Bay, everything could be fixed. The Red Keep was comfortable at least, and there was a deep pleasure thrumming within her that she was back in the home her ancestors had built, the seat of their power, even if she didn't sit on the Throne she still felt bursting with pride, and it felt good, so good. She knew Aegon felt it too.

Currently she sat with Tyrion and Varys in the rose gardens as the evening breeze danced over them. It was comfortable, though roses weren't really her thing, perhaps she'd rip them up and replace them, this was her home now, with her family, with her friends and advisors. Her home, again the pride _burned_ in her chest and she knew as she leaned back in her chair, she was the picture of satisfaction with a hint of smugness.

"You didn't see the way they looked at each other" Tyrion said with a shake of his head as he reached for some wine, he drank less now but still plenty, she only didn't berate him as it never seemed to dull that sharp mind that had helped them win the kingdoms, "You didn't see the way she smiled at him, the look he gets when he sees her"

"I did see that, in the Eyrie" She admitted as she reached to pour herself a glass of wine, Varys took one as well, and they sat around, drinking, debating the issue at hand. "And again, in the tent"

That their King, her nephew, Aegon Targaryen was already hung up on the Stark girl.

It wasn't that Dany had a problem with Sansa, sure she didn't totally trust her, she couldn't, not after the girl had been taught under Littlefinger but she seemed harmless enough, sweet and kind. On their trip down she had never complained, had greeted all servants by name and Blackrain was already following her around like a puppy loyal to his new mistress. She seemed like a nice girl, but nice or not she was a Stark, and Aegon could not marry a Stark.

Again, she had nothing against the Stark's, Jon was half one for Christ sake and she loved him as much as she did Aegon, but a marriage to Sansa Stark would not work.

She was northern and had voiced her intent to return North when Jon did, she was of a different kingdom all together now and would do nothing to solidify or cement Aegon's rule. She was not a useful ally when Aegon was already tied to the North through his brotherhood with Jon. Aegon needed to marry someone useful to his throne, someone like the thrice wedded, never bedded Margaery Tyrell or the vixen of Dorne Arianna or perhaps some silly southern girl from a minor house. He needed to marry someone of the South that was useful to his reign, not a girl of the North who as pretty and kind as she was did not help him to secure the Throne.

"It hasn't even been three weeks" Varys voiced then, his voice always one of wisdom too, "If he's already seeing himself with her, time will not diminish that, and she is here for his coronation, another two weeks at least, his affection will only grow deeper, as will hers"

"Well we can't ask her to leave" Dany said in slight annoyance, "But he can't marry her, we need to nip it in the bud" She said decisively and her advisors both nodded in agreement. They needed to stop this now, pull it out root and stem before it grew. It was early enough neither one of them would be too upset but it needed to be done soon, they weren't even together yet, breaking them up would be easier now.

"We'll discuss it with him tomorrow, before he announces his small council" She continued on, "Or now even get it out of the way, where is he now?" She asked and she knew as soon as Tyrion and Varys shared another look.

She let out a small sigh then before picking up her wine again, this would not be easy.

* * *

"So, how are you finding it?"

Sansa smiled at the question but took a moment to think on it before answering. When she had been in Kings Landing before she would have faked a smile, rattled off some courtesies and hidden her true feelings but now? Now as Aegon asked her, she wanted to give the truth.

He seemed to value the truth, and was an honest person himself, which was refreshing for her, and she found she liked that quality. The northerners valued honesty and candour, and she found especially after her experiences she did too, though it was somewhat difficult to follow such a doctrine now, after what she had been taught.

So many people in her life had been liars; Littlefinger, Cersei, Margaery, they had all spun webs of lies to get what they wanted. Littlefingers had been complex, Cersei's greedy, Margaery's the prettiest but still lies none the less. She had been taught to lie by Littlefinger, to conceal her true feelings so they weren't used as a weakness, to cover up her distaste or anger, and yet it wasn't natural to her, she was a Stark, honest and true, and finding someone else who not only shared that quality but also enjoyed It in others was nice.

 _'We're all liars here'_ She had once repeated those words back to Littlefinger when he had spoken of the Capitol, but it wasn't true anymore. And so, as Aegon smiled down at her (and she tried not to get distracted by what a nice smile it was), she thought on his question, how was she finding it?

Certainly, easier than she had anticipated. Bar the anxiety upon entering the gate, the shakes before Aegon had met her at the stairs and a brief moment of panic as they passed the throne room … she was finding it okay. Part of her was not at ease, remembering her time as a prisoner, remembering the time she had been a scared little girl with no family, no friends nor allies, stuck alone amongst Lannister's. It was hard not to associate the place with such bad times and experiences, and yet she was finding it easier than she thought, for a few reasons.

First it was already starting to look different. The plethora of Lannister banners and the few Baratheon had been torn down, Targaryen banners dominated the halls and rooms now, the three headed dragons hanging proudly everywhere they went. She had only caught a glimpse in the throne room, but she could already see the skull of the great Balerion the Black Dread stood proud next to the Iron Throne. She wondered what other changes they planned to make, and she planned to ask Aegon about those, she wondered if she could offer suggestions but no … she would return North soon.

North, god how she missed home, and yet the ache to return to Winterfell was still very strong but not as desperate as it had been when she had been in the Vale. Perhaps it was because she was safe now? With Jon? She wasn't sure, but though she knew she still wanted to go home, the part of her that had been seeking to do so with urgency was diminishing, so much so she was growing happier she had come to the Capitol, what a change! In the carriage ride through the streets she had cursed Aegon and her own stupidity for coming here, but now as she walked with him through the paths hugging the sea she found she was happy to be here.

She supposed that answered the question he asked of her, but first she thought back to why she was finding it easier, and why she was happier to be here. The fact it looked different helped, she certainly didn't miss the Lannister motifs everywhere, but there was of course a second reason, much stronger than the first.

 _Aegon_.

How she had crumbled to his charm, that handsome smile, his quick wit, unconcealed and unapologetic arrogance, and that honest tongue she didn't know but she had. Whilst walking through the Red Keep, he had kept her distracted with tales of public works projects he had planned, the formation of his small council and had asked her about Winterfell, claiming he hoped to know more of his brothers kingdom … not that she believed him, but the fact he had made such an effort to distract her had been kind of him, she had said as much and he had simply grinned at her before insisting she go for an evening walk with him.

And so here she was, arm tucked through his as they walked near the sea, it was evening now, a cool breeze was gentle over her skin, and she found herself far more at ease than she had ever been in Kings Landing, Aegon's presence by her side was the credit for that, and so she answered his question with a happy smile.

"Much better than I thought" She said honestly, and she was rewarded with a dashing grin on his lips, which in turn sweetened her smile, "The changes you've made have made a noticeable difference"

"Is that all?" He fired back at her with that wicked grin, bringing a pretty blush to her cheeks she wished she could hide. Petyr had called that her biggest weakness. She had learned to hide behind courtesies, harden her expression to reveal nothing and her posture to mask her true emotions but the fire in her cheeks that could match her hair? She had never been able to control that. And as she didn't use her courtesies, nor mask her emotions here in Aegon's presence, she found she didn't mind that her blush was as clear as day to him, as she ducked her head.

"I suppose there are other changes I like" She said shyly, though she grinned as she said it, "I mean … one could argue the new King has a way of putting frightened ladies at ease" At that he laughed and she followed with a giggle of her own, she liked his laugh, it was full of mirth, a hint of pride but also a delightful amount of mischief and she found it triggered a laugh in her.

"Does he now?" Aegon said, playing along which made Sansa laugh again, "I must meet this King that apparently has such a way with women then" He grinned again and Sansa's laughter continued, she found herself even moving a little closer to him, arm tucked through his already but now her side pressed to him as well, he didn't seem to mind, and she smiled at him before firing back at him.

"I'm sure he could give you some tips" His outraged expression at her comment then filled with humour and that only had her laughing harder, and he followed her in his chuckling. Sensing that their laughter would continue he led them to a bench overlooking the sea, and Sansa happily took a seat next to him, and though they unlocked arms, they did not move apart.

"I am enjoying myself" Sansa said in seriousness then, though a humour filled smile continued to play at her lips. She didn't know why she felt the need to tell Aegon more of her feelings but she found the words spilling out, "Truly your Grace, you have made my introduction back here much better than I had thought or could have hoped"

"None of this 'your Grace' please Sansa" He said with a shake of his head and her cheeks coloured as she realised she had slipped into some of her old formalities, "But I am glad to hear that, truly. I hope you'll enjoy the coronation and your time here" He paused then, a tight knot forming between his eyebrows as he thought on something, a frown coming to his lips. Sansa felt herself worrying; had she done something to upset him? Panic almost filled her stomach, for whenever she had displeased Petyr, he had always made it known, and yet his next words extinguished the panic completely, though a little gasp did leave her lips.

"I wish you did not have to go"

"I..." She stumbled then, for what could she say? The North called to her, and yet for a moment she had to assess her feelings. Was her desire to go North not as strong as it had been because she was now free of Baelish and the Vale? Or was it because of the man sat opposite her who had saved her, offended her, and then charmed her in such a short time? She didn't know, it was awfully confusing, but it gave her pause, and clouded her resolute determination to return to Winterfell.

"I know you can't stay though" He said then, and he seemed to put a tight smile on his features, Sansa hated that, hated the apparent upset in his expression and the next words left her lips with almost no thought behind them, only a desire to ease his worry, and born from the fact that the call North had lessened in his presence.

"Can't I?" She found herself whispering, her hand moving to cover his on the bench. His eyebrows shot up at that and all mischief was gone from his expression, he looked shocked, something she had not seen on him before. And yet, it only lasted a second before a small smile came to his lips, no arrogance in it, no playfulness, it was sincere, and she found she liked that most of all.

They were sat close together, _almost_ too close to be proper, and he turned his hand to hold hers and she shivered a little as his fingers stroked over her knuckles. She should move back, turn away, shake her head, and run, but if anything, she found herself leaning in closer, and closer, and he was doing the same, closer, closer. Her eyes slid shut, and she found herself resolutely ignoring the part of her brain screaming to be sensible, to go back to Winterfell, to not get caught up by a handsome King with a charming smile. She ignored it, and as his hand moved to cup her cheek, she did not recoil, if anything she only leaned into his touch.

* * *

If someone had told him two weeks ago his evening walk with Lady Sansa, a woman he was rapidly finding himself fancying more than was just a passing attraction, would end in the two sat together on a bench, leaning in for a kiss, he would have not believed them, he would have scoffed and thought them mad, but now here they were.

She had teased him, blushed until her cheeks were the colour of her hair, grinned in such a sweet way and then dropped the bombshell that her feelings on hurrying for the northern border and not staying in Kings Landing any second more than necessary were changing by the minute. He had found himself smiling at her, laughing with her, sad she might leave and now he was leaning in to kiss her.

He knew it wasn't proper, knew it wasn't right and yet Aegon had always been, and would likely always be a man who went after what he wanted. And right now? Right now he wanted Sansa, wanted to kiss her, to make her gasp as she had before, wanted to make her feel safe and protected, but also wanted to stoke a passion in her belly he knew was there. He wanted to kiss her, to feel her lips on him, and though he knew it wasn't proper (and knew Jon would punch him if he saw them now), he could not stop what he wanted, and wouldn't stop either.

"Lady Sansa" He found himself pausing, just as he felt the ghost of her lips at his, and he shocked himself with his next words, "Are you sure?" His voice was barely a whisper, he had no idea why he was pausing to ask her consent; she clearly wanted the kiss as he did, as she leaned into him and curled her fingers with his and closed her eyes in anticipation of a kiss. So why was he stopping to ask? Perhaps because he felt so protective of her already, perhaps because he wanted to know she wanted this, he wasn't sure, but it was certainly new for him, and as she nodded he felt more at ease, ready for the kiss now he knew she wanted it to.

He leaned forward, his hand cupping her cheek, his lips just ghosting over hers, he could feel the heat of her cheeks beneath his fingers, almost hear the thud of her heartbeat, smell the sweet scent of her hair, almost taste the pout of her lip. His fingers brushed over her hair, and she let out a small mewling sound, at that he dipped forward, and pressed his lips to hers.

But only for one second, one little second that wasn't nearly enough, that wasn't the epic kiss he wanted Sansa to experience as her first with him (he tried to ignore his thoughts telling him it would be the first of many if he had his way). One small second, as he heard a loud cough behind him, a loud cough he recognised. He would have been glad to ignore it, but Sansa immediately jumped out of the embrace and let out a little horrified shriek. Aegon let out a groan himself and dropped his head forward. He saw Sansa jump to her feet, and he quickly followed her to stand in front of her, almost hiding her from view.

From the view of his aunt, arms crossed, shaking her head at him, flanked by Tyrion who looked a resigned and Varys who looked smug. He hid Lady Sansa from view and as he turned to her, she looked horrified, embarrassed and wouldn't even lift her gaze to meet his, and he knew their night was over.

"Lady Sansa" He said, falling into the more formal stance now, which he found ridiculous, a minute ago she had bene melting in his arms, now she could barely look at him! Curse his aunt and his advisors, couldn't whatever they wanted have waited? He felt they had thoroughly ruined the moment. "Why don't you head back to your rooms for the night? And tomorrow we can break our fast together?" A hurried nod from her and she turned and walked with an alarming speed back into the Keep, he could tell she was resisting breaking into a run and he almost smiled at that, of course she was too ladylike to make a dash for it. Almost smiled though, and his expression soured further before turning around to his aunt again.

"What do you want?" His tone was clipped, and Dany held up her hand in response and shook her head at him, judgement stamped across her expression, well this was not going to be pleasant and he already had an inkling that what they had interrupted was the reason they had come.

"We need to talk"

Wonderful, this would _not_ be fun.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo thoughts?
> 
> hate me? love me? ;-;
> 
> I love this couple and hope you do too!  
> also so proud of my bby girl sansa, sussing everything out. remember this sansa was tutored under LF, she may be fragile atm but she ain't harmless. 
> 
> speak soon

**Author's Note:**

> thoughts? lemme know, god I love this couple. 
> 
> speak soon


End file.
